Luminescent
by nyreelex
Summary: Dive into another BAU case that has the entire team caught up in this killer's complicated plan, even leaving one of their own in a situation he might not come out alive from
1. Only 7:47

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of the characters. Enjoy and please review!**

 _Another day in the office_ , Reid thought, sipping his coffee. The world clock on the wall read 7:47 am, along with the rest of the hours for Los Angeles, UK, China, etc. The office was bustling like usual, hundreds of FBI agents starting their days reading case files about terrorist threats, homicides, immigration conflicts, security breaches…

"Reid!" a familiar voice called from behind.

Satchel secure in place, Reid turned with an open expression to see that Morgan was the one who called him.

"Hotch just called an emergency meeting, JJ's got something serious it looks like."

"Tell Hotch I'll be right there," Reid said, collecting his things from his desk to prepare for the most likely trip to some city to try and solve the upcoming case. He sighed and glanced at his clock, it read 7:49 am. _It's not even 8 o'clock yet and the day is just beginning._

 _…_ _._

Reid hustled into the conference room at 7:53 am, everyone already seated and Hotch just beginning to speak.

"Sorry, everyone," he quickly apologized, sitting in his seat and eager to hear the next case.

"It's alright, Reid," Hotch addressed Reid formally, all of them wondering whether Hotch ever actually slept or not, "as I was saying, JJ informed me about our new case, JJ if you would like to continue."

"Yes, sorry everyone, I normally don't like things to be this early either but it looks like Boston really needs our help," she handed out copies of the case to every team member.

"In the last 3 months, 32 have already been found dead in similar patterns and the Boston PD isn't going to risk losing anymore," JJ stated.

Rossi whistled in a way that indicated surprise, Prentiss double checking the numbers.

"Why didn't they come to us sooner?" Morgan asked flabbergasted, "I mean, with this high of a body count I would've."

"It's always like this with the big cities," Prentiss added, shaking her head, "they don't want any help from us because they put their pride before their own people."

"In any case," Hotch broke the accusations from developing any further, "it looks like we're going to be flying to Boston to help them catch whoever is responsible, so everyone pack your bags, wheels up in an hour."

"Wait a minute," Rossi said, reading the case file all this time, "the killer picks his victims at random, but has some alarming similarities to another killer I've studied before. Oh gosh, what was it…" Rossi tried hard to remember.

"Well it looks like he kills his most victims at every full moon cycle," Reid shared his opinion, "Looks to me like he follows some kind of lunar chart of some sort."

"Garcia," Hotch ordered, "find any lunar pattern that has some kind of connection to the case at all."

"Yes, sir" and she left the room hurriedly, not at all fascinated by the behaviors of killers in anyway.

"The information for this case is pretty selective," Prentiss pointed out, "I mean we have almost no details about the cause, the victims, anything."

"I noticed that too, Prentiss," Reid added, "I thought it was only me."

"In any case, I've coordinated a meeting with the chief of police at the Boston PD, Greg Ellory, so he'll be expecting us," JJ added.

The room seemed to be coming to a close, everyone blankly playing with their coffee or pencils. The expressions of everyone's faces grim, even though they worked hard to be where they are, no one liked to think of this many people dying at eight in the morning.

"That's all for now," Hotch addressed the whole room, collecting his papers, "See you all at the jet in 45."

…..


	2. Dive in Deeper

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of the characters. This chapter's going to reveal much more and stay tuned. Reviews welcome!**

Reid couldn't stop looking at the case file, like Rossi, something about the killings was familiar. He racked his brain for past cases, but there were too many, even for his eidetic memory to decipher.

He glanced at his clock, they were 45 minutes away still. He settled himself deeper in the chair and continued his ongoing game of chess against himself. He never could beat Gideon, he thought while shaking his head fondly and a smile as he thought of those days.

Prentiss, sitting two rows back, shook her head in amazement as Reid was immersed in his game, his mind playing against itself.

"How does he do that?" she asked, deeply curious.

Morgan, sitting across from her, looked up questioningly and smiled. He smirked, "should've seen him on the plane ride to Washington state. He had 7 hours to kill and beat himself in 12 matches."

"But, doesn't that mean he wins any-"

Prentiss was cut off by Rossi's frustrated exclamation a few rows down, "I know this case! Where have I seen it before?"

Reid only smiled and continued his game, the rest lightly laughing at the older agent's messy set up, scouring the books he wrote for any hints.

"I'm sure it'll come to you soon, David," Hotch encouraged in his "boss" voice, "but for right now, everyone get very familiar with the case because we'll be on the newest crime scene the minute we land."

"Wait?" Morgan asked, standing up, "there's a new victim?"

"That makes it 33," Hotch nodded, gravelly saying, "let's stop this guy before he gets to 34."

….

The team burst through the BPD doors with authority and importance, all eyes on them with wonder and slight apprehension. Running to greet them was a middle aged man with graying hair and dark bags under his eyes, clad in a grey suit. He held his hand out to Hotch, the chief of the BAU cutting him off before he had the chance to speak.

"You must be Detective Greg Ellory," he gave the Mr. Ellory a firm hand shake, "I'm Agent Aaron Hotchner."

"Yes, thank you so much for coming so quickly, I hope the flight wasn't bad," he said nervously, unsure about how to address an FBI agent, let alone someone so high in the ranks.

"It'll be worth it when we catch this killer," Hotch responded curty, now turning to gesture to the rest of the agents, "This is my team: Our liaison who you spoke on the phone with, Agent Jennifer Jaureau, Agents Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan, David Rossi, and Dr. Spencer Reid."

Now addressing the entire unit, Detective Ellory said, "Thank you all for coming on such short notice about our little issue, if you would please follow me to my office so we can get started."

As they walked through the lines of desks and officers, Morgan remarked, "Little issue? You've got 33 people in the morgue cause of this guy, doesn't really seem "little" to me."

"Yes, well, I have spoken to each family personally, and I'm hell bent on catching this son of a bitch," Ellory said, this case hitting a nerve for him.

As they entered the office, Hotch ordered, "Rossi and Reid, stay with me. I want all your insight about this killer and it's possible relations with another case. Morgan and Prentiss, go to the new crime scene and see what you can find. We'll try to put together a profile as soon as possible."

The agents nodded in understanding and headed to their said locations, JJ whispering to Hotch, "I'm going to go talk to the other officers, see if there's any information I can maybe get out of them."

Hotch nodded in agreement and addressed Ellory in his office, "Now," gesturing for them to sit, "Let's begin."

….

JJ was having some trouble keeping the officers focused and cooperative as she did her best to try and get any useful information regarding the case. The guys kept laughing and teasing, obviously to try and annoy the fancy shmancy female FBI agent, so she tried a different method. Excusing herself to go the restroom, JJ looked in front of the mirror and took her hair out of the tight bun and let it fall over her shoulders. Next, untucking her shirt and even unbuttoning one of the top buttons. She rolled her eyes in annoyance to what she was doing, but hey, if she wanted to catch a killer, then she had to take some precautions. Next she practiced twirling her hair all pretty like and changing the tone of her voice. _This should give them a run for their money_ , JJ thought.

Reentering the break room, she saw all at once the officers stop their laughing and conversations and look at her. They unconsciously straightened up, fixed their hair, became more proper. She smirked, _I've got em now._

"So," JJ said, flirtatiously and with plenty of eye contact, "I heard this guy's been killing a lot of people, anyone want to fill me in?"

They were all entranced, one speaking up, "We've got over 30 dead, all with the same tattoos in their skin."

"Tattoos?" JJ asked, not remembering any mention of tattoos on the file.

"Yeah, crazy tattoos," the officer shuddered in remembrance, his heavy Boston accent painting his words, "those types of things, you don't forget."

The other officers were silent, their coffees and donuts not seeming as appetizing anymore.

JJ stopped the act and looked at them sympathetically. These guys were as frightened as she was at this killer, they had families at home they needed to take care and with a killer like this on the loose, there was no telling where he would strike next.

"I need detailed descriptions and photos of all the different tattoos on each body," she ordered, writing notes in her papers, "now, tell me everything you know so far."

…..

"It started in october, we got a few missing people reports, nothing unusual, but all of a sudden three out of the five missing turned up 2 days apart from each other within the first two weeks," Ellory explained vividly to the three intent agents in the room.

"We saw in the case file they were all killed in different ways," Rossi started, "so why do you think all these people were killed by the same person?"

"Because," the head detective shivered in horror, "he's contacted us about all his victims. Did the same damn thing every time, but we were always too late."

"Did what every time, Greg?" Hotch asked, forcefully, hands on the table in front of him and leaning towards the detective.

"Sent their pictures with weird symbols written all over it," Ellory wouldn't look them in the eye, just stared off into space, "he would mail their headshots to us, but by the time we even had a search party looking, they would already be dead."

Reid looked on intrigued but silent, his mind working at a hundred miles a second. He desperately tried to make some kind of connection between the victims, the scenarios, past cases. Hotch was about to speak when JJ bust the door open, Hotch shockingly looking at her provocative demeanor.

JJ was trying to catch her breath, running up two flights of stairs to Ellory's office, "No time for that," she addressed Hotch's look of outrage, "the bodies. The bodies have tattoos- markings all over them."

Hotch looked with barely suppressed anger at the head detective, "Why weren't any of these things in the case file, Greg? We can't do our jobs without all the facts. You called us, remember?"

Ellory was speechless, trying to find words, but was unsuccessful. Hotch straightened up and fixed his tie, "Good day, detective," heading for the door, "and good luck finding your killer."

All the others got up in agreement, Rossi giving Ellory his calculating expression, reading his behavior in one glance.

Greg couldn't stand it anymore, _Screw it_ , he thought.

"Wait!" Hotch heard a voice call frantically from behind, turning to see Ellory stumble out of his office.

He addressed all the agents present, "Look, I wasn't the one who called to leave the information out of the file. I was ordered to."

"By who, detective?" Hotch said menacingly and sternly.

Greg hesitated for a moment, looking guilty, and Hotch turned around to continue walking when Ellory again decided to speak up.

"Okay! Okay! It was the DA! He specifically told me to leave out any details of this case and not to call the FBI. But, I can't sit here and wait while more innocent people wind up dead and their cases on my desk. I had to do something and so I called. Now, don't ask me why the DA is keeping this quiet because I know as much as you do." the words spilled out of his mouth.

Hotch walked up real close to Ellory and said in a low, calm voice, "Well you sure did sit around and wait until 32 people died for you to call us," and continued back into the office.

The others looked at Ellory expressionless, walked after their boss into the office, and closed the door behind them, leaving Ellory outside. They began to get to work.

….


	3. A Look into the Victims

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of the characters**

Morgan and Prentiss were on the crime scene minutes after they left the station. It was a chilly January afternoon and Derek was wearing nothing but a short sleeve, meanwhile, Emily was bundled in layers of jackets, trying to keep warm.

"So," Morgan approached the detective on the scene, standing next to the latest victim's body, "What do we got here?"

"Betty Klous. 31 year old female, same markings on the bodies as the others," the detective stated, looking grim, "and we got her picture this morning with the mail."

The detective looked at Derek straight in the eyes, Derek noting a flash of something occur in them. Hotch had called not even 5 minutes ago informing them of the tattoos and pictures the station had been getting, sending Emily pictures of all the different markings so far.

 _"_ _I knew things were missing in the case file," Prentiss had said in the car ride to the crime scene, "It was just way too incomplete for this many murders."_

"Where are the markings?" Derek kneeled next to the body, "on her abdomen?"

The detective nodded, expression pitiful and…angry? "Same as all the others."

Derek carefully, with a glove, lifted the victim's blouse to inspect the markings. The detective looked away and made a sound of disgust, abruplty walking away without another word.

Emily knelt down next to Derek, both of them looking after the detective, "What's wrong with him?" she asked Morgan.

"I don't know," he said, calculatingly, "but he's gotta get a grip if we're going to have any chance of catching this guy."

Derek refocused on the body, now getting a full view at the tattoos. Emily pulled out her phone and began to swipe between all the pictures of the markings Hotch sent her, trying to find a match.

At last, she said, "Here! Look, it matches this one. Um, belonging to…" pausing as she tried to search for the name of the victim with the same markings, "Craig Bryan, died 56 days ago."

Morgan let go of the shirt and motioned for the coroner to step in and finish up, Emily dialing Reid to let him know about their findings.

Reid picked up on the second ring, "Hello?"

"Reid," Prentiss said clearly through the phone, "The tattoos on Betty Klous' body matches the ones on Craig Bryan's 56 days before."

Reid pressed the phone against his ear with his shoulder as his hands ran through the files of each victim, trying to find Bryan's.

"I got it!" he exclaimed, getting that sense of adrenaline when they made a discovery, "Craig Bryan, 32 year old male, found in an alley on Morton Street with the same markings on his body as Betty Klous. His picture was sent 3 hours before his body was discovered."

"Reid," Morgan now spoke through the phone, "We're coming in. Tell Hotch to also question Ellory about the lead detective on the scene, something doesn't look right about him."

"Got it," he said hurriedly and hung up the phone.

Derek and Emily started walking towards their car, getting ready to fit more pieces of the puzzle back at the station. They both were silent, all of them a little trumped by this killer.

"I have a feeling this case is going to get more interesting than it already is," Derek said, opening the driver seat door.

"Yep" Emily said in agreement, slamming the passenger seat door shut.

…..

All the BAU agents were rounded up in the BPD conference room 20 minutes after Emily's call to Spencer. Reid was informing the table of his finds on victimology, having made a few connections between the murders.

"When Emily told me that Betty Klous was in her early thirties and I saw Craig Bryan was as well, I decided to check all the victims' ages and," Reid started putting pictures of the victims on the screen, "they all ranged from ages 29-34, that seemed to be more than a coincidence to me."

"All of them?" Rossi asked, surprised.

"Yes! And I don't think that's all, I haven't finished with the data yet, but I think they were all maybe at one time or another in particular organization or club or company, something where they all knew each other," Reid was getting excited, voice rising.

"Have you called Garcia?" Hotch questioned.

"Yeah, and I've ran a few of their names in the system," Reid explained, "so far, nothing yet but Garcia's going to call me the minute she finds anything."

"Good work, Reid," Hotch praised, getting up from his seat, "Keep working victimology and look for anymore connections. These people weren't chosen at random, find out why."

Reid nodded, eyes widening at the major task ahead of him.

"JJ, get us the names of all the families, let's find out if the victims knew each other at all. Derek and Emily, keep going through the tattoos, see if you find anymore matches. David, you're with me. We're going to go speak to the DA," Hotch announced with authority.


	4. Names Off the List

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of the characters. Hope you all enjoy and for the part about the agent in trouble, you'll just have to keep reading and see :) Please review!**

JJ sifted through over 70 family members, organizing which victim's family was to whom. They didn't have the time to speak to every family member, 33 bodies were in the morgue and they weren't going to let anymore add to that number.

She motioned for one of the officers to come over and asked, "I'm going to need a room to speak with the victim's families. Can you have one open in a half hour?"

He nodded and went to clear a room for JJ. She straightened up and picked up the phone, dialing the number of the family of the first victim.

….

Hotch and Rossi stormed into the office of the DA, the two FBI agents holding up their badges at every checkpoint and were given full access into the building. They walked up to a young girl sitting at a desk just outside the office of the DA.

"FBI," Hotch held up his badge once again, "We need to speak with District Attorney Ross Leiland, please."

She nervously nodded, mouth open, and pressed the button to dial her boss, "Uh, Mr. Leiland?" she stammered, "Some people are here to see you, they're from the FBI."

There was a pause on the phone as she looked up at them guiltily, "M-Mr. Leiland is busy right now, he asked if you could make an appointment and come back tomorrow."

"Nancy," Rossi said, looking at her name tag, "Is there anyone in the room with him?"

She shook her head slowly.

Hotch and Rossi didn't wait another second, making a beeline to the DA's office. They opened the door to find Mr. Leiland packing up his briefcase quickly, looking ready to head out.

"Mr. Leiland," Hotch addressed the DA without sympathy, "We're hear to speak to you about the investigation of over 30 murders in the city of Boston."

"Yes," he said, hostilely, "and my men and the police department are working day and night to find the son of a bitch."

"Actually," Rossi said, closing the door, "that doesn't really seem to be the case, seeing that you let over 30 people wind up dead without even a hesitation to call us."

"I didn't feel as though FBI intervention was necessary," he said, curtly.

"Necessary?" Hotch said in a low, outraged voice, "30 of the citizens you swore to protect are dead because of your lack of "feeling the need" to call us."

"It was a judgment call and I made the decision I thought was best," he responded, defensively.

"Why are you so nervous, Mr. Leiland?" Rossi questioned, "you haven't taken your hands off of your phone and keep looking out the window as if your expecting someone."

"Actually, I am," he picked up his briefcase and put his phone in his suit pocket, "I'm late for a meeting because of you two, but if you have anymore questions regarding the case, listen to Nancy and make an appointment. I'll try to squeeze you in."

He stepped past Rossi, making his way calmly to the door, the FBI agents' stares following him out.

Before exiting the room, the DA added, "Or get a warrant."

….

Reid had gone through every inch of each case file on the desk spread out in from of him. His eidetic memory could recite to you anything from birth dates to great aunts. He rubbed his temples, eyes fuzzy from staring at words for so long and let out a sigh.

A ring broke his aura of silence. Garcia.

"Garcia?" Reid picked up on the first ring.

"Hey pudding top," Penelope said in her colorful manner, "I've got the goods for you."

"You find some connections between the victims?"

"Not just some connections, baby boy," she said, proudly, "but _the_ connection. The holy grail of connections."

"Well, what do you got?" Reid asked, intrigued and antsy for her response.

"Okay, so I searched for hours and finally got some hits on the names," she started, "it looks like 28 of the 33 victims attended the same local community college at around the same time a few years ago. I'm still trying to get more details about what was so special about these 33 students in specific, but I think it's a good place to start."

"Garcia, that's more than a good place," Reid praised, excited, "but what about the other 5 victims?"

"Still no hits on them, but I'll keep running their names through the system."

"Thank you so much, Garcia," Reid said, appreciatively, and hung up the phone.

…..

The clock was ticking, and everyone was feeling it. After Hotch's little talk with Ellory, he stepped up his game by 10 and actually started acting like a detective.

"Canvass the area," Ellory announced to the department in the bullpen, "Search every inch of the ground and see if there's even a strand of hair out of place. We're gonna stop this guy before he terrorizes the streets of Boston any further."

It seemed like all the officers had gotten a new skip in their step, offering to help JJ interview the families, answering to Reid's every command, or chauffeuring Derek and Emily to the crime scenes. They all wanted to catch this killer and didn't want to pussy away from him any longer.

"So," JJ was seated in the room with Abraham Krilly, the first victim's parents, "you said in the report Abraham attended BCC two years ago?"

Former mother and father had their arms wrapped around each other, kleenexes in mom's hands, "Yes, he graduated and just got this internship in Miami with this big time lunar company. Abe wanted to be an astrologist you know," Mrs. Krilly barely managed.

"That's wonderful," JJ said in her soothing voice, "Now, did Abe ever mention anyone in particular in one of his classes? Or a particular group of students he associated with?"

"N-not that I can recall," she sniffed.

"Don't worry, you're doing great," JJ said, encouragingly, "Now, I'm going to read a list of names off, please let me know if you recognize any of them."

Husband and wife looked at one another and silently agreed. JJ began.

"Emmory Swindler."

The couple shook their heads. JJ now decided to keep reading off the list until they made any sound of recognition.

"Max Dazzler. Timothy Crawl. Aiden Dexter. Maria Tinsel."

"Yes!" Mrs. Krilly came to life, "Yes, I remember Abe mentioning something about a Maria Todd."

"That's great, mam" JJ said, her eyes lightening up.

Her husband now spoke up, "If you don't mind me asking, what's this have to do with our son?"

JJ hesitated, "Well, we believe your son was linked to all the other victims, which means the killer specifically targeted these people."

The parents were having a hard time understanding where JJ was going.

She sighed before explaining again, knowing it was going to devastate the parents, "Your son wasn't chosen at random. The killer watched him, knew him maybe, and picked him particularly along with a group of other students."

Mrs. Krilly broke down while her husband asked, shell shocked, "Why was he chosen?"

"Unfortunately, we still haven't been able to figure out the killer's motive or link between the victims. But, we're trying our best to take this guy down for good."

She reached out and held Mrs. Krilly's hand in support, giving her a sympathetic look before saying, "Do you mind if we continue with the names?"

They both shook their heads. Good to go.

JJ began once more, "Dexter Pall, Allison Branchet…"

…


	5. A Note

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of the characters. This chapter is where it's really going to start, along with the next few to come. Enjoy and please review!**

THE NEXT DAY

Hotch entered the Boston PD precinct with an aura of seriousness, thinking all night about how this killer thought, and how they were going to catch him. As soon as Detective Ellory caught sight of him, he ran towards Agent Hotchner, a thin yellow envelope in his hand.

"Agent Hotchner!" the words spilled out of his mouth, "We just got this in the mail this morning, there's a new picture in it."

The agent's eyes were horrified. Hotch urgently said, "When did you get this?"

"The mail came in 45 minutes ago."

Hotch opened up the envelope and pulled out the picture of a handsome young man, late 20's, early 30's. The name read: ASTHON MILLER

"But look," Ellory said, turning over the picture to the back, a message had been written by the unsub. It said: THERE WILL BE CONSEQUENCES FOR YOUR LACK OF COOPERATION. REMEMBER OUR AGREEMENT.

"Agreement?" Hotch said, enraged, "What agreement?"

Ellory only looked to the floor, guilty.

"Detective Ellory, if you do not tell me about this so called agreement, I will have you arrested and tried for hindering a federal case, do you understand me?" Hotch threatened in a low, tense voice, which made it even more menacing.

"Alright, but the DA made me swear not to say anything about it," Ellory looked up at Hotch as if a child was being scolded, "Back when we found the first body, he sent us a note with the picture that said 'no FBI intervention or there will be consequences', the DA made the whole department keep it on the down low, which is why it took so long for us to call you. The bodies kept stacking, we have the press on our asses, and I couldn't wait around any longer."

Hotch only looked at Ellory for a solid 10 seconds before speaking.

"Call my team, tell them to come as fast as they can," Hotch stated, walking past Ellory towards the conference room.

He turned around again, saying, "If we're going to catch this guy and save his next victim, my team's going to need to skip their morning coffee."

…

Within 20 minutes, Reid scrambled into the precinct, jacket half on and half off. Emily and JJ followed about two minutes after, both with long and important strides. Rossi and Derek then came in, all heading into the conference room where Hotch was, files already set in place and ready to go.

"Thank you all for coming in such a short notice, but we just got another picture in the mail. The reports sent from the lab indicated that the unsub murdered his victims shortly before they were found. Which means that there is a chance that Ashton Miller could still be alive," Hotch filled everyone in.

"So the unsub doesn't spend time with victims, if there's such a short gap between killing them and finding them," Rossi said, having important knowledge from his many books.

"But remember, this time could be different," Morgan said, Hotch telling the team about the message on the back of the image, "he said there will be consequences, the kill could be something totally different than before."

"He's following a pattern, though," Reid spoke up, "the tattoos represent something and i don't think he might just change his sequence, I'm still trying to figure out what, but he kills his victims in bunches right?"

Reid stood up and piled the pictures of the victims according to their death dates. A few pictures were stacked on top of each other, the unsub killing victims on the same day each month.

Emily chimed in, "How are all these victims connected?"

All of a sudden the phone rang, as if answering Prentiss' question.

Hotch answered and put it on speaker, "Talk to me, Garcia."

"Someone needs to send me some massage coupons, because your favorite hacker just found the link."

Every agent's attention were on the words Garcia was speaking.

She continued, "So, all the names finally went through the system and I looked to find a common denominator between all the victims. And, my beautifuls, I found it. 28 out of the 33 victims were in the same Astrology class at BCC a few years back. The other 5 had a different link, they all interned at the same astrology internship for this big company."

"So this guy's got to be in both of those classes right?" Derek said, "we can look through the students and see which one was in the class and interned at the company."

"Garcia, send me a list with pictures of all the students along with those in the internship," Hotch commanded.

"Already on its way," she responded.

Rossi chimed in, "Anything on the patterns, Penelope?"

"When I entered them into the system, I got a link to an extremist astrology site, which I didn't even know existed, and I got a few hits on some of the markings-I'll send them now."

There was a pause while she typed away and the website came onto the agents' laptop screen. The website was primarily about radical astrology and how everyone should be influenced and live by their zodiac. Psycho central.

"Wait," Reid narrowed his eyes, "I've seen one or two of these symbols before in a book I read a few years ago. They're some kind of old zodiac language or the old symbols. I'll try to find it, see if i can get more information."

"Good," Hotch stated, "Derek and David, go through the files Garcia just sent, Emily and I are going to find the unsub's victim before it's too late."

…

Rossi, Reid, and Morgan all collaborated on their tasks, Reid heavily wrapped up in old zodiac books and Morgan and Rossi with countless pictures of victims spread out before them. They had gotten the list of everyone in the astrology class and internship from Garcia, now piece by piece putting the puzzle together.

Reid, suddenly, stood up from his chair and set the book down, voice growing anxious and ecstatic, "Rossi, give me the pictures of all the markings on the victims so far."

David obeyed and handed over the images in seconds. Reid ran to the board and started drawing lines across the board, connecting different images and dates and whatnot.

"Reid," Derek said, confused, "what is it?"

"Call Hotch!" was the only reply.

….

Hotch and Prentiss were out on the streets searching through the unsub's most popular drop off spots when they got a call from Ellory.

"Hello?" Hotch said, answering the phone.

"Agent Hotchner," Ellory's disheartened voice responded, "we found the body. On the corner of Park Street."

Hotch answered in a curt voice, "we'll be right there."

Prentiss, who was driving, asked, "What is it?"

He stated, in a low voice, "Make the body count 34."

Prentiss' mouth fell open a little in shock, and turned back to face the road, Hotch typed in the navigation to Park St.

Arriving on scene a few minutes later, the two FBI agents stepped out of the car and walked quickly to the crime scene, showing their badges to get across the yellow tape. Ellory came up to meet them, his head down.

"An old woman called it in about 15 minutes ago," the detective informed the agents, "Said she saw a foot sticking out behind the bags of trash. He couldn't have been here for more than 30 minutes."

Hotch knelt down next to the body, spotting something in the victim's hand.

"Hand me a glove," Hotch ordered.

Glove on, he opened the victim's palm and saw a paper folded in it, blood on the edges.

"What the-" Ellory said.

Emily knelt down and slipped a pair of gloves on, Hotch handing her the note. She read aloud, mortified, "Agent Hotchner, there will be consequences."

Ellory almost puked and Emily was speechless. Hotch seemed the least affected. The silence was broken by a ring from Aaron's cell phone. It was Derek.

"Yeah, Derek," he huffed, contradicting his usual professional manner.

Derek picked up on it too, asking, "Hotch, are you alright?"

"Yes, just some new developments at the crime scene," Hotch now returned to his professional persona.

'Well, it looks like Reid's had some kind of breakthrough," Derek said, him and Rossi both staring peculiarly at the younger agent scrambling things on the board, "he's going crazy over the white board and keeps saying things about "zodiacs" and "Mesopotamia." You should all get down here, now."

"We're on our way," Hotch responded, hanging up. He motioned for Emily to follow him to the car and they drove to the police station.

….


	6. The Latest Victim

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of the characters. Here it is! Latest chapter, please review :))**

Hotch and Prentiss stormed into the conference room as Reid stared at all the lines and scribbles he had drawn on the board. Prentiss sat down in one of the open chairs when Hotch said, "Reid? What is it?'

"The pattern. The unsub's pattern. It all makes sense…" his voice trailed off and his eyes never left the board.

"We're going to need more than that, kid," Morgan joked, but urged Reid to share.

Reid stayed frozen in his position a few seconds longer before whirling around to face the team, saying, "As I was reading through old astrology books to find these symbols, I thought of something. The unsub has a connection with each of the victims right? They even have connections with each other. This unsub is all about connections and links. He's a perfectionist, possibly even verging on OCD. Well, the victims must have a connection with the tattoos then, he didn't randomly kill each person just to draw a symbol, so I looked at the birthdates of each victim. So far, every birthday has been in order, the victims have died in their "month" which is what zodiac is all about. A certain symbol that represents your personality."

"So the unsub is killing in order of birthdays?" JJ asked, not catching on.

"No, although he is choosing the victims, as the months go on, chronologically. Conveniently for the unsub's pattern, each of the victims' birthdays were in the same months they died, the unsub linking their deaths to their astrological sign."

"Reid, what about the sequence of deaths? The time frame in between must mean something as well if the unsub looks for connections specifically," Hotch asked, a stoic expression on his face.

"Which brings me on to my next point, right so, I wondered the same thing. 29 days between the kills, that's incredibly specific and it had to mean something. Now rewind, the first body was found in october, specifically the 15th of october. One body was found, most likely because the unsub was new to this, had no idea what he was going to feel or do. The next two bodies showed up, 29 days later, mid November. I checked, and a new moon cycle started October 15 this past year, which means the unsub murders his victims after every phase of the moon is completed. Astrology and zodiacs are all linked with the moon and planetary systems."

He finally sat down with a huff, mind reeling. Hotch praised, "Excellent work, Reid," now addressing the team, "Everyone, I think it's time we deliver the profile. Rossi, stay here with Reid and try to find any more information hidden in the evidence. We're wasting precious time, people."

…..

All the officers in the BPD gathered outside Ellory's office, the head detective beginning, "Alright everybody, the BAU agents are ready to give their profile. Give them your full attention and don't hold anything back. A hobo on the street is out of place, you call it in. This guy's been on the loose for too long and it's time to turn in the towel. Agent Hotchner," Ellory motioned for Hotch to take the floor.

"Thank you, detective," he turned to the audience, "This unsub kills in patterns. Everything he's done is for a reason and has to have a connection. This need for links is most likely mental, a disorder or something of some kind."

JJ jumped in, "He's a perfectionist, some might even call him a little OCD. He's very organized and kills every 29 days, the lunar cycle. Everytime the moon changes a phase, new victims will be taken."

Morgan spoke up, "The tattoos- or symbols - on the abdomens are all ancient zodiac symbols that correspond with the victims' birthdates. He knew all of these victims, whether they knew it or not. It could've been in a class of 50 astrology students or an internship at an astronomy company."

Hotch ended on a morbid note, "One thing we do know, the unsub will strike again. He needs to finish his mission, and right now, he's succeeding."

A female officer raised her hand, "What about the pictures he sends in the mail?"

Derek answered, "the unsub, like we said, needs to be perfect and wants to show off his perfection. He rubs it in all our faces by sending pictures of his victims hours before we find them."

Another hand went up, "What about the most recent message he left with the body? The 'there will be consequences'?"

"The unsub is used to everyone doing as he says, another point in the profile I was getting to. So far, everything in his plan was going exactly as he wanted it to, until we showed up. He's being cornered and he knows it, which means we're getting closer," Hotch addressed the concern.

"We have no idea what he looks like people, not one person has seen or escaped to tell us anything. We're hunting a man down blind, so we all need to be on our game," Emily added.

There was a pause as the FBI agents waited to see if there were any more questions, there were none.

"That's all, thank you," Hotch ended the meeting.

…..

Reid and Rossi felt like they were chained to the desk, eyes fuzzy from looking at papers for hours. Hotch and the others were outside delivering the profile, faces of the BPD officers finally looking hopeful. After a while the speaking outside ended, the profile now spreading to everyone officer and official. The door of the conference room opened once more as the rest of the team filed back into the office.

Reid immediately said, "Sorry for the delay, Hotch. I-"

He was cut off by Hotch who said, "No, Reid, you've done more than enough for today. Without you, we most likely would haven't had come up with that profile for another few days. Is there anything new?"

"Well, me and Reid have been going through the pictures of those in the class and the internship and there were no matches. The unsub wasn't a student in the class or a member of the internship." Rossi reported, a furrow in his brow as the evidence didn't match up.

"He wasn't?" Morgan said, outraged.

Reid shook his head, tired, "I'll go over it a few more times, but-"

"None of that, Reid you've been here all day and done more than enough. Get out of the office, go get a drink. That's an order," Hotch said with a slight smile.

Reid sighed in relief and started to collect his things, the other agents just smiled, "As for the rest of you-," Hotch said but was cut off by some shouting outside the office.

One voice yelled, "I told you to stay out of it and to make sure the FBI did too!"

Another voice responded, "I was not going to stand around like a little bitch when the citizens I swore to protect are dropping left and right!"

"I swore too, you don't think I'm doing what I believe is best?! He said no FBI, so NO FBI!"

"Excuse me," was Hotchner's gruff, authoritative tone, recognizing the shouting voices as Ellory and DA Leiland, "but I would assume for anyone keeping the welfare of his citizens in mind would jump at the chance for FBI intervention after 33 deaths, and I will be investigating as to why not."

Ellory had a smug smile on his face as Leiland was appalled that the FBI agents, staring at him from the conference room, heard every word of his loud conversation. The DA was red faced and sweating, obviously uncomfortable. Reid sneaked past Hotch and headed for the door, wanting to get away from the political tension building.

"This conversation does not concern you," the DA pointed a finger at Hotch with barely contained anger.

"In all seriousness, Mr. Leiland, I do believe this has everything to do with me and my team. You first withheld vital information in a federal investigation, instructed officers to withhold information, and, in all efforts, seem to want to stop this investigation at all costs. I don't think it's wrong of me to assume you're a possible and probable suspect in this case. My patience is running thin and don't underestimate my authority if you continue the way you are," Hotch said in a threatening, intense voice.

Leiland was speechless in outrage, fear, and anger. He was crossing a thin line and he knew it. All the FBI agents surrounded their leader in full support, eyes fixed on Leiland. Everyone's eyes in the precinct were locked on the DA. He looked around slowly, eyes blazing, and turned to Ellory, "We'll discuss this later."

The DA walked to the exit doors of the BPD and into the darkening evening, it was getting late. The doors shut.

…..

The killer's eyes were set on one. One person, walking, with his hands in his pocket, out of a hole in the wall bar. A young man, late 20's, a sweater vest on and dirty, white chuck taylors. An FBI agent, the one who was catching on very quickly to his schemes. He had to be eliminated.

The leaves covered the light brown haired, thin agent from his sight and he switched positions in his crouch, covered by the greenery. The boy had no idea where the man watching him was, who he was, or what his plans were.

He warned them- no he _told_ Agent Hotchner specifically there were going to be consequences. This would show them, this would show everyone. The young FBI agent looked harmless, like a school boy. Something he was all too familiar with. Reid walked to the edge of the sidewalk, trying to hail a taxi in the late night.

It was time. Time to finish what he had started. He waited a few moments, watching the agent, oblivious to him in the bushes, and smiled. This was it.

…..

"That's DA's for you," Prentiss said, feet on the table, as the rest of the team, all but Hotch, sat in the conference room, sipping coffee.

JJ added, "They think they're untouchable, like they have total immunity."

"I'm just surprised Hotch didn't rip that guy a new one, I know I would've," Derek said.

"And that is why Hotch is the boss," Rossi chuckled.

Hotch opened the door, the late hour draining on everyone. It was 12:47 am.

"Alright everyone, that should be all for tonight. Ellory's agreed to keep working on the case no matter what the DA says. I'll see everyone here bright and early." Hotch started stacking the files, cleaning up.

Derek, JJ, and Emily said their good nights and headed out together, Rossi staying behind for a second, saying, "You too, Hotch. No all nighters."

"Dave, this unsub has killed 34 people so far, I need to find him before anymore die. This guy is one of the worst serial killers this nation has seen in decades-"

"No, Hotch. You're not doing this, blaming yourself for these deaths. It's not your fault," Rossi pointed out.

Hotch rubbed his face for a second before replying, "Thanks Dave, but there's mountains of paperwork I need to fill out. I'll catch up with you guys."

Rossi just sighed, knowing he couldn't convince his friend. He said good night and exited. Hotch sat down, the night just beginning.

…..

The team gathered in the precinct the next morning at 7:00 am, Hotch already there, looking ready for the day even though it looked like he hadn't gone home for the night.

"I'm calling it," Derek said, "This guy does not sleep."

The rest chuckled as JJ asked, "Hey, where's Reid?"

"Don't know," Prentiss said, "I figured he might've been here already, that guy doesn't sleep either."

After a quick laugh, Rossi said, "Let the kid enjoy life a little, maybe we're lucky and he actually had a good time last night."

The team smiled as Hotch approached, papers in his hand, as he said, "Garcia called late last night, saying she got a hit on a name."

No laughter now, the agents were all work. Prentiss said, "but Reid said there were no matches on students or interns-"

"That's because it's not a student," Rossi said, making the connection, "it's a teacher, the teacher is the one who's killing the students."

There was a moment of shock and silence as Hotch grimly nodded.

"Fit's the profile," Morgan said, "used to giving orders."

"All that aside," Hotch said, "we have a name, Samuel Davinbury. We've gotten this far so let's not give up here, we're close. Let's catch this unsub before someone else gets hurt."

The team nodded, beginning to go their separate ways, but Hotch asked, "Has anyone seen Reid this morning?"

"No," Prentiss answered, "we were wondering the same thing, we thought he was here."

Hotch shook his head with a frown, "If anyone sees him, tell him to report to me immediately. If it wasn't for his brain, I would've let him go long ago for his punctuality."

Rossi nodded, knowing Hotch only said that because he was worked up about the unsub, it had everyone edge. Hotch, along with all the other agents, grew quite fond of Reid very fast when Reid first joined the team. Rossi was just glad he was having a little fun.

….

It was 11:30 am in Boston that same day and the clouds promised a cold day. Hotch sat surrounded by paperwork, dreading all the forms he had to fill before the day was done.

"Agent Hotchner!" a voice yelled loud and clear through the precinct, Hotch, jumping out of his seat, sprinted to the cry.

All the other officers in the department were turning their heads trying to pinpoint the voice. Ellory stood right outside his office, an envelope in his hands. A yellow envelope. Derek and JJ ran into the room from a hallway a few feet away after hearing the cry.

"Ellory, what's wrong?" Hotch asked.

The head detective was white and speechless, holding the envelope towards Hotch as if it was a disease. Hotch slowly walked over, not to scare the detective anymore, whose hand rested involuntarily on his gun, and took the envelope.

Opening it up, his heart stopped. A new picture was tucked into the envelope, a familiar face. Hotch knew who it was before even getting a glimpse at the new victim, sweater vest giving it away.

He erupted in his FBI voice, demanding in a loud tone, "When did the mail come in? Who delivered this?!"

Ellory was speechless still and Hotch didn't have the time, dropping the half opened envelope and sprinting out of the precinct.

Derek and JJ rushed up to the envelope, the eyes of every officer on them, and JJ picked up the mail Hotch dropped. When she took out the latest picture, she gasped in horror and put a hand to her mouth to stop her from crying out. Derek cursed and ran out the door after Hotch, desperately worried for the unsub's next victim.

JJ's eyes couldn't tear away from the image. The picture on it was her favorite of Reid. Smiling and looking innocently at the camera. Her favorite picture forever ruined by the unsub who was doing god knows what with one of her closest friends. On the picture there was scribbled ancient zodiac symbols and a message that said: I WARNED YOU.

JJ wanted to puke.

….


	7. Victim 35

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of the characters. Sorry for the long hiatus, lots going on and little time to write. Anyways, new chapter finally up. Hope you all enjoy!**

Reid's head hurt like hell when he woke up, his eyes slowly adjusting and fuzzy.

 _Where am I?_ he thought, lying flat on his side. He was going to lift himself up when he realized his hands were tied around his back, unable to move them, his legs too.

That's when he started freaking out, calling out. But, a cloth was wrapped around his mouth, restricting him from speaking. His muffled breathing got faster as he realized he was in the trunk of a dirty SUV, dried blood staining the floors. He saw a more fresh stain next to his head, realizing he had his own injury to his skull, blood dripping down his face.

He thrashed around wildly, trying to at least get to his knees and signal to a car behind him or something. His body was jostled around from the reckless driving and he tried not to vomit from the motion sickness. To get up was useless, his kidnapper making all kinds of swerves and turns that prevented him from standing upright.

His eyes frantic, Reid was forced to lay back down, his thoughts moving a million miles a minute. The last thing he remembered was walking out of the bar, but even that was a little fuzzy (he had had a good time) from the drinks he treated himself too. He closed his eyes and tried to remember, the BAU using that trick sometimes to help conjure up memories, but no use.

 _I have to get to my gun_ , Reid thought, of course the kidnapper wasn't stupid enough to not take his gun from the holster, but he probably didn't notice the one on his leg. It was a small handgun, but it would do the trick to at least immobilize the man who took him.

The driver took one last sharp turn that threw Reid against the car wall before pulling into a driveway in what looked like an abandoned apartment complex.

The car stopped and the driver's door opened and slammed shut, footsteps nearing the truck. This was when Reid really started to freak out, yelling for help even though his cries were muffled. The trunk door roughly popped open and the last thing he saw was the bright rays of the sun and a thick black object racing towards his skull.

…

It was only a matter of time before Rossi and Prentiss had learned of Reid's disappearance, worry clouding everyone's minds. JJ had informed Garcia not long ago as well, her usual Penelope charm completely lost.

"Garcia, do you have any security footage of the bar Reid went to last night?" Hotch asked, stressed, over the phone.

"Just Reid walking out the front door, after that he walks out of range from the camera," she answered, dejectedly.

"When was the last time anyone saw him?" Derek addressed the group.

"Last time was here at the precinct," JJ said, Prentiss nodding in agreement.

"We all were here, no one saw him after that," Rossi explained.

"What about spoke to him? Cell phone? Anything?" Prentiss continued to press.

Rossi shook his head and JJ looked away; they had a serial killer on the streets, not one of them had a chance to shower let alone have a heart to heart with someone on the phone.

Hotch just shook his head, saying to Garcia, "Penelope, if you find anything else, call immediately."

"I'll keep trying to track his cell phone, see if I can pinpoint a location," she desperately said, wanting to be useful in anyway.

"No, this unsub is smart and practiced, he wouldn't make a rookie mistake of leaving a cell phone with Reid," Rossi informed, as if teaching a class.

"Or his gun," Derek said on a more sinister note.

The room went silent as Garcia hung up, worry thick in the air. Hotch finally broke the quiet and assumed his role as leader once again, announcing, "Everyone, I know Reid is more than just another civilian, which is what is going to make us want to stop this unsub more than anything else. Rossi and Prentiss, find out everything there is to know about Samuel Davinbury and his background, see if there's a hit on anything. Phones, records, credit card statements, bank agreements-anything there is to know, we've got our hands on. Derek, you're with me. We're going to give the DA another chance to redeem himself and see if that get's us anywhere. JJ, keep talking with victims' families, one person has to know or seen something. Reid's been gone for…," Hotch glanced at his watch, "14 hours. Let's get him back by the end of the day."

A new aura of confidence and determination filled the room as the agents were back in the game, fighting like hell to find their missing friend.

…

Someone was having a field day with Reid's head, migraines shooting through his skull like a kid at a carnival. He opened his eyes, groggily, and blinked a few times, bits and pieces of what happened prior to him being tied in a chair slowly returning.

 _Wait_ , he thought, beginning to panic, _tied to a chair?!_

And it all came crashing back. The bar, the car, the blood, the blackness. He thrashed wildly against his restraints, all nerves and senses on high alert.

 _No, not again. Not like Tobias,_ he began to break down, thinking back to the consequences of the last time he had been kidnapped.

 _Think Reid!_ he chastised himself, looking around with wide eyes. He was in a run down, abandoned apartment, probably not inhabited for years. The walls were sinking in and water damage stained the walls. There was one light bulb, hanging from the ceiling, that gave off a sickly, dim glow.

On the floor next to him were small bits of broken glass and a few, faded blood stains. _My gun_ , he remembered. Slowly trying to inch his tied hands to his ankle holster, Reid pushed against his restraints with as much force as he could manage. The facts were: he was kidnapped, alone, hit in the head with, probably, a severe concussion, and was trapped who knows where. They didn't teach you how to deal with kidnapping while getting a doctorates degree.

Finally, his wrists blue and bruised from tugging, Reid's fingertips felt the smooth, hard wood of the gun handle. He sighed in relief, but his happiness was short lived when he heard footsteps approaching from the next room.

Reid really went into overdrive now, not caring if he completely lost feeling in his hands, as long as he could get ahold of his only hope.

 _Yes!_ Reid celebrated internally as he wrapped his fingers around the small hand gun, holding it behind his back. The door creaked open just as his hands were invisible behind his back once again.

A man walked in, mid 40s, with a salt and pepper do, and thick shoulders. A pair of thin framed glasses rested on the bridge of his nose and he walked silently, almost gently, into the room. He wore dark colored clothing, ashen gray jeans with a navy blue button up and black boots. From the exterior, he looked like a normal, even friendly man. Guess everyone had their dark sides.

"Hello," he said quietly, almost awkwardly, standing with his hands behind his back.

Reid didn't answer, continuing to look at his kidnapper with squinted, calculating eyes.

The man didn't wait for a response, just turned around and pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket. Reid hadn't noticed the decaying wooden table in the shadows of the room, but the man laid the map on the surface of it.

"Did you know," he stated, back turned and drawing lines on the unfolded piece of paper in front of him, "that a day on Venus is longer than a year here on Earth?"

He gave Reid a side glance, who still remained quiet.

"Or," he continued, "that, in space, metal sticks together?"

He completely turned to face his prisoner now, the silent FBI agent analyzing his every move, "you see, that's the beauty of space. There are no boundaries, no limits," in a darker tone he said, "no rules."

Reid gave away no emotion, face like stone. He wasn't going to give this guy the benefit of the doubt or the satisfaction he needed.

 _Great,_ he thought, _we've got an unsub killing people based on their astrological signs out there, and now this guy giving me a lesson in space._

Reid finally spoke up, quickly saying, "Assaulting and kidnapping a federal agent is a felony-"

The kidnapper cut him off as if he hadn't said anything, "I believe you have been able to see my work for what it really is, more than just random blood stains and body bags. But a message lying in the back of the horror and the chaos."

Reid's mind did a 360 as he realized the astro killer was standing right in front of him, all this time and he hadn't put the pieces together. The middle aged, average looking man in eyeglasses standing in front of him had killed 34 innocent people.

"You.." Reid looked at the man in horror, the unsub's expression almost pained, "You killed all those people…why?"

The man had a hand on his mouth and stared out into space for a few moments before saying, "Agent Reid, ever since I was able to walk, I was fascinated with the stars and the vastness of space. I got my first telescope at six years old, never parted with it. Fast forward 30 years later, and I'm teaching at the local community college and even directing an astronomy internship at the company I also work for."

Reid had an expression of mock horror while the man talked, as if teaching one of his students, all the while trying to undo his ties while the unsub was distracted.

"Every semester, every year, class after class. No student truly appreciated the science of astrology or shared my same fascination with the stars. The astronomy course I taught was a last resort to gain a few extra credits before transferring to a bigger, better school."

"So, you decided to kill your students since they weren't going all bug eyed for stars?" Reid asked, baffled, but trying to keep the unsub talking as a distraction.

"You make me seem like I'm some horrible person," the unsub chuckled, actually thinking this was funny.

 _Killing 34 innocent people I guess don't qualify you as a 'bad person'?_ Reid thought, but, even though the evidence screamed that this was the killer, his quiet personality didn't match the profile he spent hours mulling over.

"Agent Reid," the kidnapper addressed his victim, "I've been watching you. And your different than the others. Not the 'big man on campus', but the quiet kid behind the scenes. You saw more than meaningless tattoos and corrupt cops in the victims, but a purpose behind the curtain."

Reid's mind worked as the unsub droned on, not at all surprised now that no one was interested in his class, but caught key words in the killer's speech. He said 'the' instead of 'my victims', straying away from the profile. This unsub was supposed to be flashy and wanted to flaunt his work, making it known the kills were his, but it seemed as though this man in front of him steered clear of acknowledging the victims, even feeling remorseful about it.

 _"_ I appreciate your acknowledgement," the unsub said, stepping back towards the worn down table and opened the drawer, taking out something with a sickly glint, "But now, I'm afraid, our little chat needs to come to a close."

As he turned around, there was a sharp knife tucked away in his hands and a grin on his face, but his eyes said something different. His body looked like it was saying go, but his eyes screamed the opposite. Well, Reid wasn't going to take any chances.

Reid jumped from his chair and aimed his gun at the man in front of him, "Drop the knife and hands over your head! Now!"

The man was surprised, yes, but smiling. Dropping the weapon, he said, "Ohhh, got a little trick up your sleeve? Well, now it's my turn."

Before Reid could say anything, he heard shuffling from behind him and turned around right in time to see a dark object race for his head.

 _BANG_

You could hear the sound of the frying pan collide with Reid's skull as he sank back in his chair and his only chance at survival toppled to the floor. All the nerve endings in Reid's body were numb, his mind barely able to register his own body. A new coat of blood covered the dried streak in the side of Reid's head, knowing two hits in one day couldn't be good. As he looked around, he saw a new man emerge from the shadows, lean, bald, and dressed in jet black from head to toe with strange tattoos racing across his skull, a sneer spread across his face.

The professor looking man who originally spoke to him picked up the gun, although it looked like Reid was seeing two of the original kidnapper, and said, "You're a smart kid, I've got to hand it to you," the unsub complimented, "Honestly, I'm quite surprised one of you FBI robots were able to see past what was right in front of you. Or, have I overestimated my faith in you?"

Reid knew he was out, the impact of the iron pan hitting hard enough to render him unconscious. He wasn't even able to talk, tasting the coppery tang of blood in his mouth, as his mind was blank from being whacked. As the world faded to blackness, he desperately screamed in his thoughts for his team to come find him before he turned out to be victim number 35.


	8. None of Them the Weizer

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of the characters. Here it is! Sorry for the delays in between, I'll try to post more frequently but rest assured, I won't be abandoning this story anytime soon ;)**

Garcia sat in her little bubble of solitude forlornly, her colorful trinkets seeming glooming and depressing, reflecting her mood. Reid had been missing for 20 hours now, the rest of the team at a loss on where to start, scouring the streets desperately. The unsub who took her friend had left no indication, IP address, or even a cell signal as to where he had gone. He had been off the grid for years, making it impossible for her to track anything. She looked at her computer screen intently, waiting to see if even the slightest fraction of a signal popped up. Her hands felt useless without a keyboard to type on or an address to track, looking longingly at her telephone if Morgan or someone called her. Better yet, if Reid called, saying he had just a little too much to drink and slept through half the day with a hangover. Anything was better than the thought of him being alone and possibly hurt somewhere.

….

"Prentiss, where are those files I asked for? Everything on Davinbury, I need. Right now," Hotch said, assertively, juggling twenty things at once, "Rossi, I'm going to need the astronomy company's contact info."

JJ and Morgan went to the bar Reid stopped by at last night to interview the business owner, see if had seen anything suspicious.

"Found them, Hotch," Prentiss said as she handed her boss a thin manila envelope.

"Good," he said, mind moving in a million directions, "Let's go through these and see if we can get a lead at all on the unsub, a possible location to where he may be keeping Reid."

She nodded and took back the folder, opening it up and began rifling through the papers.

Hotch impatiently answered a few more questions by some officers and said, "Someone get Garcia on the phone. Ellory," he addressed the man surrounded by officers as well, "get some of your guys to the unsub's previous drop off spots and stake it out, also send a few more to the DA's office, with a warrant. Rossi, where's that number I asked for?" He confronted his team member a little sharper than he meant to.

"Sorry, Hotch," Dave answered, walking into the room, and handed him the number and a cell phone.

"No, it's alright, I'm sorry," he apologized, "just, with Reid gone and this unsub with the head on us, I'm not sure we're going to make it in time."

Rossi pulled Hotch off to the side, saying, "Reid is the smartest kid I've ever met, Aaron. If anyone can get out of a situation like this, it's him. Stop playing the blame game and snap out of it, this isn't your fault."

"I know, I know," Hotch replied, "But, I can't help but feeling a little guilty since I was the one that let him off early, alone too. I should've taken extra precautions, especially with an unsub like this hanging around."

"You can think all you want," Rossi said in his gentle but straight forward voice, "But you and I both know that Reid himself wouldn't have let that happen."

The agents fell quiet, Hotch sighed. Officers were milling around in all directions, blown up images of the picture of Reid the unsub sent hanging on the walls of the room. Victims' faces flashed in front of him as Hotch felt a new determination grow in him. They _were_ going to find Reid, not if. But when.

….

The run down bar Derek and JJ stepped into had definitely seen better days, wooden walls faded and eroded over time and many bar fights. Bostonians on a Saturday night were destructive. Derek quickly had to duck, just in time to avoid a low hanging rail above him. JJ carefully stepped after him. Approaching the counter, a man stopped sweeping and stared at the well dressed man and woman, eyeing them cautiously.

Derek began the introduction, "Mr. Weizer? Agent Derek Morgan, FBI."

The man now looked even more suspicious, hugging the broom tighter. In a thick accent, he responded, "Yeah, that's me. What's this about?"

"One of our agents went missing last night, he was last seen here at this bar at around 12:45 am," JJ now interjected, "we have a few questions, if you don't mind answering them."

The man relaxed, only slightly. "Don't got a choice, do I?"

"I'm afraid not, sir," Derek smiled, flashing a picture of Reid to the bar keeper.

"That's the FBI agent?" Weizer said, baffled and slightly laughing, "Yeah, saw him here last night, looked nothin more than a kid to me. I IDed him, looked a little young."

"Mr. Weizer," JJ said now, in her authoritative voice, "Did you see any suspicious persons or events at your bar last night?"

"Nah, honey," he decided to comply with the agents, "As in nothin more unusual than a regular night in this town."

"Was there anyone sitting particularly close or conversing with our team member here last night?" Derek questioned some more.

"I don't know, officer," the man started to get impatient, he had customers to attend to, "Lemme just think for a second here.."

"Take your time," JJ switched her tone to a gentler one.

The man seemed to appreciate her sympathy and really tried to remember the events of last night. A few rough spots throughout the evening, but that was the story of his life. He recalled a young girl, probably 21, being hit on by a man three times her age. That wasn't anything that would catch his eye though….

"Oh!" Mr. Weizer's face lit up in front of Derek and JJ, "I remember now! Your little fella, whatever his name is, was sittin on the bar going over some papers but I kept seein this other guy a few booths down staring like a hard ass right at yo friend here."

"Can you tell us what he looked like?" Derek's voice became very intense, a possible witness in front of him.

"Hmm," Weizer rubbed his chin, "Long night..might not have the best memory but I'm sure it'll go a little ways."

Derek took that as a yes.

JJ pressed on, "What else was this man doing?"

"I dunno. Coulda been doin a lot of things…" the man said, looking mischievous and answered JJ's question curtly.

JJ was confused, but Derek caught on quickly. Sighing, he whipped out a $20 dollar bill from his wallet and waved it in front of Weizer's earnest face.

"Now tell us what else he was doing last night," Derek demanded, angrily, sliding the bill on the table towards Weizer who took it from the agent's hands.

"Well I wasn't keepin tabs on him the whole night," the bar owner set the broom aside and put the money away, "but he did have one glass of beer, only took a sip of it though…whatta waste."

Derek tried to keep Weizer focused on the matter at hand, but he noticed the bar keeper's eyes flicking towards the door as customers came in. Knowing he didn't have much time, and didn't want to stretch his luck with Weizer's 'cooperation', he asked, "Did the man you saw leave at the same time Reid-our friend- did?"

"Nah, left quite a ways before," Weizer answered, "don't look much into guys who come in here, but watched him walk out. Didn't see no taxi or nothin. Guy was a creep, thought maybe he was even a little more than interested in yo FBI agent the way he was looking at em all night."

"Thank you, Mr. Weizer," JJ wrapped it up, "An officer will be in later to get a description of the man from last night."

He tipped his hat to the agents and made a beeline to the customers at the table.

Derek had his cell out in a matter of seconds and dialed the first number on his phone. The person on the other end answered on the first ring.

"Yeah, Hotch…."

….

Reid woke up to yet another splitting headache. It was going to take multiple Advils to clear this up. He knew hew was going to need medical attention at one point, the gash on his head from the pan slowly bleeding through the gauze someone half heartedly threw on. Instantly, he switched to defense mode, remembering his prior situation right before he blacked out again. There was a gag around his mouth and no one in the room.

He wasn't in the same room as before, no table in the corner, but it definitely looked like the one he was in last time. Then he remembered he was trapped in a massive abandoned apartment complex, probably stuck in one of the many rooms on the multiple floors.

His whole body hurt and tingled, his nerves going wild. His eyes felt hollow and it was hard to blink, everything moving slowly and unsteadily. He knew he was in no shape to be doing anything, but he needed to find a way to get out of here, thinking back to what the unsub had told him before.

 _There were two guys,_ Reid thought, letting his head fall since he was still groggy. The possibility of a duo never occurred to him, the profile didn't require it. This unsub wasn't afraid of the world and wanted everyone to know that. He would never want to share the glory and fame with someone else, yet the man who had spoken to him before didn't fit the profile he spent hours putting together. Something was off and he didn't have the will power or the mindset to solve it.

Hopelessness radiated through him. This unsub-or unsubs, he was still unsure- didn't spend too long with their victims, and he knew his time was running out. He held his head up and what he saw almost made him puke. A camcorder was set on a tripod directly in front of him.

Flashes of his time with Tobias racked his brain and fear was the only thing he felt. He struggled against his new restraints, this time around the unsubs smartening up and double tied his hands and feet. The cloth over his mouth seemed to be tightening and his breaths coming out unevenly.

 _Get a grip!_ he chastised himself, _you've been kidnapped, drugged, shot, poisoned with anthrax…what's another deadly situation going to do to you?_

 _Great motivation, Reid_ , he rolled his eyes.

The door opening softly snatched him away from his thoughts, the man with the glasses coming in quietly. Almost like he didn't want to wake someone if they were sleeping.

Reid briefly remembered how someone had been behind him the last time he was alone with the man in glasses and tried to look behind him, his restraints not allowing him to, however.

He felt extremely vulnerable. No gun, no speaking, no vision. Everything the FBI trained you for, he didn't have.

"Sorry if I'm interrupting whatever your thinking," the man said, truly apologetic, "I know hits to the head are a little hard to wake up from, but you're looking good."

 _Good?!_ Reid said to himself, baffled. He must have looked awful. Hair everywhere, dark shadows under his eyes, blood smearing his face. His own mind was the only way he could talk, and he was on a roll, _You're the one that put me here! 34 people are dead because of you and I'm supposed to be out there preventing that from happening, but look where it got me!_

He must have been speaking through the gag, even though his words were muffled, because the man started to shush him in a soothing, calm voice.

"Agent Reid, you must a have a hundred questions for me, probably even questioning your own mortality," the man looked at Reid evenly though his lenses, "am I wrong?"

Reid didn't try to talk anymore. Partly so the man wouldn't get off anymore on his reactions and partly because he was right. Somewhere in the time he was being held hostage here he thought about what would happen if he didn't come out of this building alive. He already had a will set in place, something he did before joining the FBI in case something happened to him on the job. He left his mom most of his things, even though she wouldn't be using it, but he had comfort in knowing she would receive all his books and memoirs. The rest, he left his team. His house, investments, etc.

"Now," the man slowly inched his way to the camera, Reid struggling to be free as he edged closer to it.

"No, no, no!" the man said, as if comforting a child after a bad dream, "It won't hurt, trust me. You see?" He, very slowly, pressed the recording button. Reid was panting out of anger and fear, ready to rip this guy a new one, but tried to have another go on his binds as the man kept talking.

"See? That wasn't so bad. Now, as I was saying, you must have a lot of questions for me, but I do too. Namely, how did you start making patterns from the victims?"

Reid continued to look at the unsub dead in the eye, his own eyes filled with pure anger and hatred.

The man waited for a response before mockingly saying, "Ah. My apologies."

He slowly undid the gag on Reid's mouth and smiled a great big smile.

"Please, continue," the man gestured to Reid.

Reid didn't say a word.

"I see," the man frowned and stood up, genuinely sad, "Guess we're going to have to get you to chat with a different method."

 _We're?_ Reid thought, not giving anything up to the unsub, knowing he was smarter than the man, _As in we?_

The unsub moved towards the door, leaning on the wall, and closed his eyes.

Reid's face was a mask of confusion. _Why did he close his eyes?_

Then, someone in all black emerged from the shadows in the corner of the room.

Oh no.

Reid was able to get a clear view of the man who probably gave him his second concussion earlier. He was average height and pale, completely bald. Dressed from head to toe in black, the only thing you could see in the dim light and darkness were his white hands and devilish face.

Reid shrunk back in his chair, taken aback by the second man in front of him.

"Let's get started," the bald man said in a sinister voice, and grinned.

….

Garcia sat in her IT office, wallowing. Her baby boy was gone and she couldn't do anything to help. Everything she had on this guy she had already told the team or was a bust. Her computer still desperately tracked the unsub and his past, even though, after all these hours, it wasn't looking good. She sighed and rested her head on one of her hands when her screen lit up. There was a message on it in a blinking box that read: CLICK HERE

Yeah, there was no way that was happening. That was a virus waiting to happen right there. Confused she moved her mouse to the little X on the top of her screen but her mouse would only move to the CLICK HERE button and freeze. She tried wiggling her mouse some more, but it wouldn't budge, stuck on the button.

Hesitantly, she clicked the button and was instantly redirected to a grainy live feed of someone sitting on a chair on some private website. Except it wasn't someone. It was Reid.


	9. DA's Confession

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of the characters. New chapter up! Trying to make the chapters longer because I'm starting to wind the story down a little bit, just a couple more chapters to go. Anyways, enjoy and please review!**

Hotch had ordered Derek to sift through the small amount of information they had on Samuel Davinbury for the umpteenth time until the DA arrived. His eyes grew tired of reading over the same words and his worry about Reid's whereabouts increased by the minute. What if he was hurt? He knew that last time with Tobias had robbed Reid of his innocence, never having that same curiosity or spark any longer after that. So, here he was. Sitting, sifting, reading, waiting. He was about to dive into another page of Davinbury's rough childhood in an orphanage when his cell phone saved him from doing so.

He checked the caller to see it was his favorite IT tech and answered, "Hey baby girl, give me some good news."

"Derek," Garcia's voice was quiet. Scared.

And she never used his first name unless it was an emergency.

He stood up from his chair immediately, "Penelope, what's wrong?"

"Umm…g-get Hotch-just get everyone together. Now."

He hesitated, having a million questions for Garcia, but complied, "Ok, hold on."

He saw Hotch in Ellory's office going over a file and Prentiss and Rossi in the break room drinking two well deserved coffees.

"Hotch!" he shouted, storming into Ellory's office to see Hotch look up at him, "Garcia needs to tell us something. Now."

The BAU division leader sensed the intensity in Derek's voice and set the file down, excusing himself from his conversation with Ellory. The two walked outside the office and towards Emily and Dave, Hotch announcing, "We need to gather everyone in the conference room, immediately."

Both agents set their coffees down without hesitation and Prentiss nodded, saying, "I'll go get JJ, I saw her talking with one of the officers."

As she walked away, Rossi asked, "What's this all about, Hotch?"

He gestured for Derek and Rossi to follow him to the conference room temporarily designated for the FBI agents and said, "I'm not sure yet, but Derek told me Garcia had something important to show us."

Rossi and Hotch turned around to see Derek talking on the phone as they hurriedly walked over to their room, speaking to their tech genius, "Yeah, Garcia. No, we're heading there now. I'm going to put you on speaker."

Rossi closed the door and pulled the shades down, Garcia's tense voice sounding in the room, "I'm going to send you a link to website I received. Looks like they got through my firewall…except no one can-I-I don't know how…" She was becoming hysterical.

"Garcia, what's this all about?" Hotch asked, growing impatient but knowing not to show it in front of Penelope when she was in this state.

"Just watch," she answered in a small voice, on the verge of tears.

On the white screen in front of the table, Garcia's link popped up then a fuzzy video of a man, sitting in a chair, and a gag around his mouth. The person was bleeding heavily from what looked like a few big gashes to the side of his head and blue bruises masked the rest of it. Hands and feet tied behind his back, he looked hopelessly at the camera, frightened.

Hotch instantly sat up from his chair in horror and shock, everyone's eyes glued to the screen.

"Reid," Derek whispered in the tiniest voice possible.

Prentiss and JJ walked in and closed the door, confused at why everyone had horrified expressions on their faces, until they noticed the video playing.

There was already a man talking in the video although the voice was purposefully distorted and warped. The room was dark and the video quality was very low so it was difficult to see any faces either, although each team member recognized Reid when they saw him.

The voice was coming from behind the camera, so no faces were seen, except the bald, lean body of another man to Reid's side dressed in all black. His face was shadowed and the live feed was very grainy so no features were seen clearly.

The unsub was in the middle of a sentence as the team tuned in to this sinister channel, "-going to ask you again, how were you able to make the connections? Did someone leak any information to you?"

Reid defiantly looked on, making it clear he was not going to answer any questions. A surge of pride spread through Hotch as he acknowledged the loyalty of each of his agents, but also fear, that Reid's courage could also get him killed.

The man off to Reid's side brought up a needle from his long, black coat. It's contents unknown but clearly not good.

Reid couldn't see what the man was doing behind him, struggling to get a visual, but not wanting to take his eyes off the man behind the camera.

The entire BAU teams' eyes watched with horror as the man with the needle came into Reid's field of vision and held up the syringe with a psychotic smile. Reid was in full on defense mode now, trying desperately to kick with his oxfords and colorful mismatched socks at the unsub. Yet, there obviously wasn't much he was able to do in his position. The man, mockingly, slowly inched closer to Reid with the needle and plunged it into his arm. Reid tried not to make a sound from the harsh stab of the syringe and the drugs they had put in him, but a small moan escaped his lips and his eyes were squeezed shut.

The man stepped back and let the camera get a full view of his hard work, looking directly into the lens and at the team.

"Say hello, Agent Reid," the man offscreen directed him, making it clear to everyone he had full control.

Reid looked into the camera with a look that made JJ let out a small cry. It was desperation, fear, pain, and hopelessness in one expression. Hotch looked away, as if Reid had directed that look right to him.

The last image they saw of Reid was the bald man in black roughly walk up to Reid, raise his muscled arm, and punch the FBI agent hard enough to knock him out cold. He chuckled at his good work, looked at the camera. A sick laugh sounding in the back as the screen went pitch black.

The unsub behind the screen walked into view of the camera. Hotch narrowed his eyes at the screen, looking for something, _anything,_ as an indication of where his agent was being kept or who this man was. But this unsub was smart, smarter than the low ranking community college he almost flunked out from specified that he was. You could see everything but his face, the camera perfectly positioned to get everything from the neck down. He began to speak, "Hello BAU agents! You must be thinking that the poison we just injected into your little friend here," he nudged Reid's foot, but he was completely unconscious, "we signed his death certificate."

Everyone back in the BPD conference room intently hung onto every word this maniac said.

"Well, not the case. But, I must say, I am a little disappointed at your work so far. I mean, it took the youngest and most inexperienced of all of you to get some actual headway on my work. You've been dillydallying for much too long, and, as your little profile has suggested, I don't like to loiter with my guests. You have around, let's see… 25 hours to save your friend? Something like that, I mean poison is poison. Can't really put a time frame on it. And, next time my fellow agents," he switched from his mocking tone to a very serious one, "do better."

The screen went dark.

….

Garcia was crying, JJ had her head on Emily's shoulder, Prentiss was in full fledged shock, Derek was angry, Rossi looked solemn and stared off into space, and Hotch stood motionless. None of them knew what to make of what they just saw.

What was in the syringe? Were there two unsubs? Who did the killing? Well, obviously the bald man from the look of glee he got when hurting Reid, but did he do this all on his own?

These questions ran through Hotch's mind as he was still frozen in his place, hovering above his chair.

Ellory walked in at the complete wrong moment.

"Hey, Agent Hotchner, the DA's here-"

When he saw the looks on everyone's faces, he stopped.

There was a moment of awkward silence as the agents tried to keep it together after Reid's torture channel just went to commercial.

Hotch cleared his throat, fixed his jacket, and turned around to face Ellory with a look made of steel.

"Take me to him."

….

Hotch, even after all his mind just digested after the video, walked with prestige and formality, embodying the qualities of an FBI leader. Mr. Leiland was in the middle of the precinct, surrounded by officers shooting him accusatory glares, even the suspicious detective that Prentiss had pointed out at the crime scene yesterday. The one looking at Ellory and the victim with much disgust. Walking up to the DA, calmly, Hotch said, "Mr. Leiland. Your cooperation to come willingly will make this questioning much easier than if you didn't."

"Didn't have much of a choice did I, _agent_?" the DA spat the word in Hotch's direction.

Hotch gave no reaction to Mr. Leiland's inappropriateness, but inside, he was fuming. _I don't have time for this_ , he thought, impatiently.

"Right this way, Mr. Leiland," and followed him and the wall of officers around the DA to the interrogation room.

….

So far, Mr. Leiland had given up nothing. He was sitting in the small interrogation room, handcuffed to the desk, alone, as Hotch, Ellory, and Rossi, who had joined them not too long ago, watched from the one way glass. Leiland couldn't see them, but they sure as hell could see him. Ellory had gone in a short while before, trying to get some information out of the Boston DA, but their encounter ended in waving hands and yelling.

So they were waiting. Trying to make Leiland uncomfortable, on edge, so he was more likely to give up some information. One thing was for sure: the DA cared more about saving his own ass than anyone else's.

"Maybe we should try again now?" Ellory inquired, looking at the FBI agents as if waiting for permission.

Through the course of the case, the team had grown fond of Ellory. He was reliable and pulled through on the tasks he was given, never hesitating when asked of something. He trusted the FBI agents in full and was a cop who truly cared for this city and its civilians. After all, he was the one who called the BAU when his boss had directed him not to.

"A little bit longer," Rossi said, all three staring at the DA, who seemed to be growing impatient, "just a little bit longer…"

…

When Reid saw the needle with the turbid, white liquid race for his forearm, any last shard of hope in being saved, vanished. Here he was: alone, bleeding, helpless, drugged with who knows what, and surrounded by two maniacal killers.

He knew the camera poised in front of him was feeding the rest of the team, most likely at the police station, the events that just unveiled. The first unsub had a laptop in his hands, Reid wasn't too out of it to put two and two together that he was broadcasting live to his friends.

His blood felt tainted, as if he could feel the foreign liquid coursing throughout his room was becoming unfocused and he could feel a layer of sweat start to envelope the back of his neck. Nausea hit him hard and his stomach seemed to be kicking him from the inside out.

Then, a strong fist launched towards his jaw bone out of nowhere, he heard a crack, and was out like a light.

….

Hotch entered the interrogation room with a sigh, spending his sweet time at the door looking over his papers before even glancing at the Boston district attorney. He had to play this right. Leiland wasn't stupid. He needed to approach him the right way to extract any valuable information at all. The DA was definitely keeping something from the police and FBI, and at this point, anything would be useful in the search for Reid.

Derek and Prentiss ran to the lab after the broadcast of Reid to ask about toxins or poisons from A-Z that could kill in a 24 hour range. Garcia, needing to keep busy, reviewed and cross checked all her sources, contacts and information about Davinbury twice, and also tried to find anything about the second unsub that recently popped into the picture. It was a race against time, and Leiland definitely wasn't in a hurry.

He locked eyes with Hotch as he walked to the desk with an impatient expression on his face, not very pleased about the countless hours spent in the small, gray room.

"Sorry about the delay Ross, you know how it is when a serial killer's running around. It's just work, work, work," he matched Leiland's gaze, "isn't it?"

The DA didn't respond. Hotch began his interrogation.

"How long have you been in office?" Hotch inquired.

It took a while but the man in handcuffs replied, "Almost 5 years."

"Anything like this ever happen on the streets since you've been appointed?"

"No," was the impatient and cranky answer.

"Do you like your position as district attorney?"

"What does this have to do with-" Leiland said with hostility.

"Answer the question," Hotch kept his gaze dead center in Leiland's eyes.

"Yes."

"That's funny, because from the way you've been protecting Boston so well, I would have thought the opposite. And can take your job away with one phone call." Hotch's brown, intense eyes never left the DA's for a second.

Leiland's eyes, however, were full of fury-and even fear. This job was everything to him. Hotch inwardly smiled, knowing he was slowly getting somewhere, breaking the tough exterior of the DA down.

"Why do you like your job?"

There was a huff of frustration from the DA before he responded, "because it can provide for me and my family."

Hotch was silent for a moment before asking again, "Are you a native of the city?"

Ellory and Rossi stared intently at the conversation unfolding before them, Ellory baffled at Hotch's seemingly random questions. They had a deadline, their 25 hours shrinking to around 20 by now.

"What's he doing?" Ellory asked Rossi, standing next to him.

"Each person needs a specific method and approach to make them crack," Rossi explained, "obviously Leiland is very proud, and doubting that pride may be just the thing to get him to talk."

Another impatient yes came from the DA.

"So, you've been working this job for a few years, have a family, get to stay in your hometown…seems to me like helping this city would be your main purpose." Hotch slightly chuckled, "Where did they go wrong?"

Leiland stared at the agent in front of him with barely contained anger, "What do you mean?"

"What kind of elected official doesn't disclose information about a serial killer, having a spree on your streets, to not save the lives of countless citizens?" Hotch asked, in all seriousness. He knew he was coming down hard but every minute counted and now two unsubs to take care of.

"No! No, no, no!" Leiland started to get mad, "You cannot interrogate me like this! I want a lawyer, a judge, a warrant, and you and all your agent asses back to wherever the hell you came from!"

Hotch stood up from his chair in outrage. Who was this man to speak? His team was out there right now trying to protect the civilians of this man's city, one of their team members was kidnapped and dying on his behalf, and the district attorney of Boston was sitting on valuable information!

He came up close to Leiland, right in his face. Hotch's approach was, in fact, working. They were making some headway.

In a low, menacing tone, Hotch said, "No one wants you. No one wants to represent you, protect you, see you, believe in you. You gave up on this city so they gave up on you. You think my agents and I are the problem? Right now, the only person, besides the killers themselves, who actually had some credible knowledge of the case is tied to a chair and his organs are shutting down, because of you. He's one of us. You let 34 innocent lives slip through your fingers, and after all that, you won't even disclose what you know about the murderers. Your family would be ashamed of your actions, this city already is. Now, why don't you make use of the little patience I have left and tell me everything you know about these unsubs, maybe then I'll consider to not write a note that says 'possible serial killer accomplice' on your file and _maybe_ keep some kind of job in criminal justice. I don't know…maybe they need more security guards downstairs or secretaries to make coffee runs. It's your choice, and I beg you to call my bluff."

The room was even quieter than silent, as if the air itself was speechless. Even Ellory and Rossi in the next room stood frozen after that speech, Ellory's mouth hanging wide open. The DA sitting in front of Hotchner was, most likely for the first time in his life, quiet. He probably never heard anyone say things like that to him before this, no one had.

Hotch stilled looked at Leiland expectantly, waiting for an answer. He was running out of time, poison already beginning to do its damage to Reid.

After a long pause, Ross Leiland barely stammered, "I-I- uh, he came into my office right after the first couple murders were discovered, with an appointment…he looked just about normal-"

"What do you mean by 'just about'?"

"Well, when he spoke, it was…," the DA paused to remember the meeting, "He talked funny, with big words and lots of jokes. It felt like his emotions weren't right, like he was too happy. He shouldn't have been happy with the request he had."

"What was his request?"

"He wanted me to stop the investigation of the murders that had just taken place in the city, back then it hadn't even been classified as serial murders yet. But, the weird thing was, he was laughing the whole time, and his friend couldn't keep his eyes of the pictures on my desk-"

"His friend?" Hotch cut off, quickly.

"Oh, right sorry, he brought someone with him. A tall, skinny, bald gentleman dressed in weird leather clothes. The whole thing was just off, and the man, he called himself Bonnie, looked very intelligent. Almost too smart, where it had started messing with his mind a little," the DA eagerly gave up the information, on roll now that he had finally started.

"Bonnie," Hotch repeated, "That doesn't match the name we have in our records. His real name is Samuel Davinbury, and all our files suggest he's very unintelligent, barely hanging on to his job as a teacher."

"Well, I wouldn't look too much into the name Bonnie, I mean, he called the other guy Clyde. I'm sure if you call my secretary she'll have some records about the day he came in. Possibly it was under the name Davinbury after all. But, about him not being, at least to some degree, intelligent, well…I have to disagree. Now that you brought it up, my phone started glitching out then and when he saw me struggling, he just fixed it for me. Right there. And it didn't look easy either."

"About his friend, you said he kept looking at the pictures on your desk?"

"Yes, the entire conversation. The whole entire time were talking, Clyde would just blatantly stare at the crime scene photos of the murders on my desk. And Bonnie kept telling me to," Leiland quoted what Bonnie had said, "'kindly and cordially turn a blind eye to the recent deaths plaguing the city.' All he did was laugh the whole time while Clyde either checked out the murder pictures or got nervous when Bonnie spoke too much."

Hotch looked in Rossi's direction, not being able to see him directly behind the tinted wall, but knew Dave understood the notion nonetheless.

Rossi nodded, even though Hotchner couldn't see it, and started walking out of the booth. Ellory was dumbfounded, calling after Rossi, "Wait!"

Rossi patiently turned around.

"That's it? I mean, he gave little info about where Davinbury and Agent Reid are now. Almost nothing about the two unsubs."

Rossi chuckled, and when Ellory blankly stared at him, he continued, "Our DA here gave much more than he knew. From what he told us, we know the first unsub is intelligent, someone who likes to show off his brains, and most likely is going to contact us again soon to rub it in our faces they have Reid. This also means any information we had on his past is false, if he's as smart as people say he is, then I'm sure it would have been no problem altering his records a little bit. We need to call Garcia and tell her to revaluate everything. He's impulsive and will not want to stay hidden for much longer, maybe even accidentally giving up a clue as to where Reid is. His meeting with DA proves this even further, only going to speak with Leiland to flaunt his work, making sure the most powerful attorney in the city got a hold of his case. Now, the other unsub, Clyde, is much more cautious, but a lot more violent. Leiland said he would become nervous whenever Bonnie said too much, making it obvious he did the killing, but wanted to keep the whole thing under wraps. He doesn't care who sees him kill, as long as he can do it. So you see, we have everything we need to know from Leiland."

Ellory was awestruck, "That was…amazing."

Rossi smirked before turning back around, "You've got a lot to learn, Greg," and walked out of the room to the main precinct.

….


	10. Can They Catch the Killer?

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of the characters. Sorry for this huge absence, I've been so busy and only had the time to put together this super short chapter. Anyways, expect the next one to be really long since it will be the LAST chapter. Enjoy!**

Rossi was right. Bonnie sent multiple packages to the precinct throughout the day, flaunting Reid's capture. They contained copies of the same headshot of Reid the unsubs first sent, except now with a time written on them in big red letters as an emphasis for the short hours they had left. None of the team, or any of the officers it seemed like, had left for the night and had no intention of doing so, all of them hard at work on catching the killers. The night slipped by and their hours waned as the BAU tried to put the little details together to form a big picture.

Garcia had double checked with VICAP, interpol, and any other major database, looking for a hit on the two men, but without names or prints, it was useless. The name Samuel Davinbury was even a bust, a pseudonym created by Bonnie to obscure his true identity.

"Bonnie teaches at the local community college and the astrology center," Prentiss suddenly thought of an idea after hours of grueling guessing, "Which means he most likely was born and raised in Boston."

"Would the same go for Clyde?" Derek asked.

"Most likely, the two seem exceedingly close," Hotch said, "it looks like they've known each other for a length of time."

"Bonnie is showy, he craves the attention since he never had it as a child," Rossi attempted at understanding the unsub more, "His ego is through the roof, but why? His parents didn't love him as a kid?"

"You think any parent's going to love a kid like this?" Derek pointed out, glancing at Bonnie's picture on the wall.

"Or maybe," Prentiss slowly began to understand, "He didn't have parents. I mean, what if not everything in the Samuel Davinbury file is fake? What if the portion of him actually being an orphan is true?"

"It would explain the need for recognition," Hotch agreed, "and it would have to be somewhere local, like we said, he's familiar with the area. Get Garcia on the phone."

Derek dialed her and she answered in seconds.

"Yes, my loves?" Penelope was ready.

"Garcia, search all orphanages in the city of Boston."

"In Boston…" the sound of her fingers typing away was heard over the line, "there are 23 existing orphanages."

"Eliminate anything less than 35 years old."

Uh..now 19."

"Somewhere strict," Prentiss pointed out, "A place where they didn't show much appreciation or love."

"Garcia, any orphanages ran by nuns?"

"4."

"Can you access group pictures or files of the kids?"

"Honey, who are you talking to exactly?" she smirked, determined to prove herself.

The team only smiled on the other side of the phone, too distracted to enjoy her attempts at lightening the mood.

"Alright, I've sent all files of each child in these orphanages, anything from medical charts to adoption papers. It's all there."

"Hotch," Derek said with a slight frown, "by the time we go through all go these kids throughout all the years, our time's gonna be up."

"I know," Hotch responded, trying to think, "we need to narrow the search."

"I've been thinking," Rossi said, "Bonnie and Clyde. No nun or religious figure would allow a kid to watch a show based on a pair of star-crossed criminals. He had to have learned about it in secret, private, or away from the orphanage."

"A club?" Prentiss threw some ideas around, "School?"

"The nuns at the orphanage usually provided the education," Hotch added.

"Hold it, doves" Garcia said, eagerly, on the phone, "There was a showing of the Bonnie and Clyde film for the boy scout troops of Boston in the local park back in the day."

"Does it show which troops?" Derek asked, excited.

"Sure does," triumph coloring Garcia's voice, "and I found our favorite little Bonnie and Clyde."

In an instant, childhood photos of the two unsubs in scouts uniforms were projected on the screen.

"Samuel Wayhaven and Mark Pellegrio," Prentiss said, reading the names off the screen.

"So Samuel Davinbury wasn't completely off," Rossi pointed out.

A noticeable silence filled the room as now would be the time Reid blurted out some interesting fact about pseudonyms.

"Everything from birthdate to orphanage address are in these files, I'm sending them over to you right…now." Garcia stated as the information filled the screen.

"Thanks, baby girl," Derek sighed in relief.

"Next time you call, Reid better be on the line with you," she said like a ferociously caring mother.

Derek chuckled and hung up the phone.

"Run the unsubs' names with Ellory," Hotch asked Prentiss, "See if he gets any hits with Mark. It seems to me he has the more violent history."

Prentiss nodded and was out the door.

…..

Reid awoke chained to a metal bedpost, legs stiff from sitting in the same position for so long. His head felt thick and cottony, tongue like leather. He figured he had been moved from the room he was originally at, given that there wasn't a bed in his old holding cell.

 _Or was there?_

Truthfully, everything was one big giant cloud, his mind reeled when he tried to think. His situation was bad, that much he could tell. His eyes couldn't focus, he was freezing but his skin was burning to the touch, and every part of him hurt. Hurt bad.

 _I'm never drinking alcohol again_ , he told himself, since a late night drink is what got him in this mess in the first place.

Reid vaguely remembered a conversation about his time running out before Clyde ripped him a new one and knocked him out. He had to get out of here, or at least help his team help him get out of here.

There wasn't much he could do really, he was sick and dying and chained like a rabid dog.

 _Think, Reid!_ he tried shaking his head in an effort to clear his cloudy mind.

A tid bit of an idea just began to crawl into his head when the door in front of him started to creak open.

….

The next time the unsubs decided to contact the BAU team again, Reid looked like hell. Hotchner, Morgan, Prentiss, Rossi, JJ, and Garcia all watched in stunned silence as their coworker looked white as a sheet and was visibly shaking. His eyes looked a little woozy and out of focus, but compared to the pallor of his skin, it was nothing.

"Take a good, long look, agents," Samuel Wayhaven gloated on the screen, Mark Pellegrio practically carrying Reid in the background. At this point, it looked like he couldn't support his own body weight.

"You have 10 hours to save your little friend here," Samuel, a.k.a. Bonnie, continued, "and you know what? Clyde here's getting a little antsy, might be about time to hit the streets again. You know, since it looks like you're little pal here doesn't have much time left."

A maniacal cackle filled the room as Clyde shoved Reid ahead of him, Reid falling over his feet. Before they had the chance to turn the cameras off, Spencer, with the little strength he had left, barely managed, "Building! Apartment building! Abandon-" he was cut off by the impact of Samuel's foot against his stomach.

The already existing pain from the poison intensified as the boot hit home somewhere in Reid's digestive system, causing the little he had to eat before he was taken to reappear all over the floor in front of him.

The team watched as Reid vomited from a mixture of pain, poison, and being kicked with a boot before Clyde stomped over and switched the camera off.

Derek's fist met the table in a harsh thud as he poured out his anger on the innocent oak slab. Hotch looked away in shame, but was much better at hiding his emotions as he asked Garcia, "Penelope, did you get that?"

"No sir, nothing. His firewall drove me out, I didn't have enough time to crack it," she said in a tiny voice.

"Thank you, Penelope," Hotch said.

"Wait," David interrupted, "Reid's message before…" he faded out, "He tried to say an abandoned apartment building, he's trying to give us a clue to where he is."

"But there must be tons of abandoned, old apartment complexes in Boston, especially if we don't have a specific area to look in."

"Well, like Reid said, this unsub's all about patterns. Maybe his past killings can give us some kind of clue as to where he is," Prentiss pointed out.

"It's something to look into," Hotch agreed, "Dave, go with Emily and try to find the connection. JJ, we need you on TV, warning anyone and everyone of the pair and if they have any information to call the tipline. Derek, you're with me, we're going to see what Ellory pulled up on Mark Pellegrio and see if that gets us anywhere."

….


	11. Ending Pt 1

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of the characters. Sorry for that extremely long wait, but the rest of the story will all be posted tonight! It is incredibly long, I will post it in 3 parts, not to worry though because everything will be on by tonight. Thanks to all that have stuck through on this long story! Enjoy! (1/3)**

The precinct was a zoo, agents and officers running in hundreds of directions as the clock struck closer to Reid's deadline. Voices drowned out others and the whole station represented a beehive.

"Alright everyone," Hotch had set up a hearing in the middle of the police station, the pictures of Samuel Wayhaven and Mark Pellegrio blown up and on every screen available, "We have 4 hours to finish this case or an agent, out in the field right now, dies. So far, the unsubs are the only ones who have the ability to contact us through video cam with little information as to where they are."

Derek followed, "So far we know that the kills are connected through astrological and lunar patterns and the two unsubs, Samuel Wayhaven and Mark Pellegrio, are extremely close. If one goes down, they both do. Samuel Wayhaven is the brains of the pair, probably the one who set this whole thing up, while Mark Pellegrio is the brawn, the one who does all the dirty work."

"Samuel, Bonnie as he calls himself, knows he's cornered and probably no way out of this, which is why we are worried he's going to be using Agent Reid as a bargaining chip," Emily informed the bustling room.

"He may plant Reid somewhere and send us on a wild goose chase while he's too busy skipping town," Hotch suggested, "That's why we need to find and stop these unsubs before that happens."

"You mentioned in the file they're at an old, abandoned apartment," one of the officers piped up, "Hate to break it to ya, but that's all of Boston."

There were a few shouts of agreement.

"Yes, we know it's a very broad and general description," Hotch addressed the group, "Which is why we need to think and any resources we have to try and locate where he is."

"What do you mean?" Ellory asked.

"So far the unsubs are using some form or pattern of astrology to kill their victims. Everything is connected and has a meaning, which is why we assume their location right now must have some sort of meaning as well," JJ explained.

"So our job now is to review the files, the victims, tattoos, anything you can to try and find the pattern and relay it back to us. Hopefully we can use it to find where they're hiding out," Derek announced.

The band of officers in the station began disbanding until Hotch called once more, "Wait."

Slowly, the room hushed to a silence, waiting to see what the next announcement was and delay in their search.

Hotchner paused and looked around the packed room before saying, "It seems we have a mole in the ranks."

Chaos.

Men looked outraged, nervous, angry, bewildered, shocked, scared. It took a little force and lots of shouting from Derek to quiet the busy room once more, Hotch stood patiently on the platform all the while.

One brave, bodacious officer accused Hotch, "How do you know one of our _loyal, trustworthy_ men broke rank? Huh? Spying on us?"

"Actually," Rossi responded, calmly, to the harsh remark, "We know because how else would the unsubs know the rotations and shifts of the officers? That the FBI had come in on the case? That Agent Reid was the one who was the main player in piecing his puzzle of a case together?"

The officer who had expressed his outcry remained silent, along with every other officer in the room.

The detective at the scene of the kill where Hotch and Prentiss visited, the one who looked suspicious, slowly rose from his seat.

"Derek" Hotch addressed his fellow agent, "Arrest Detective Greg Ellory and read him his rights."

The quiet on the crowd quickly turned into a massive upheaval of officers in shock and angry. Derek easily pushed his way through the crowd to the horrified head detective and forcefully snapped on some handcuffs. Morgan led Ellory, head ducked down and expression blank, towards the interrogation rooms.

A few officers tried to follow, hoping for a little revenge but Rossi, Prentiss, and JJ held the distressed crowd at bay. Within 10 minutes, the patrols were set to scour the Boston area for the two, deadly unsubs and the missing agent.

The detective who had awkwardly sat up in the middle of Hotch's accusation walked up to Prentiss and Rossi, who were talking together, voices low.

"Uh, Agent Prentiss," the detective began, the two FBI agents turning to face him, "My name is Detective Jonathtan Keegan, and I'm sorry to interrupt but this is important."

"Yes, Detective Keegan," Prentiss kindly responded, "What can I do for you?"

"Well, I didn't know who to ask, but" Keegan pulled out a little black notebook he kept in his pocket, "Ever since the first victim, I've been keeping a log of every witnesses' statements, sightings, anything to help us go on. Well, I looked back a few hours ago to some of the earlier testimonies to see if I could piece together anything I had missed and saw that by each victim was a set of distinct tire tracks that the car the unsubs used dropped the bodies off in. So, I did some research. Got the tracks analyzed this morning and sent out a high priority APB of anyone who knew anything at all about them. The design, make, model, year. Just got a hit from a local car dealer that said he's only seen these kind of tires up in the easter part of the city. It's a custom made wheel, not sold in the regular market. So, I did a little research and found only two places out of East Boston who specialize in custom tires."

He finished his rant, taking in a deep breath as he did, awaiting the replies of the two agents. Prentiss was speechless, mouth open, while Rossi had a hand to his forehead, looking for Hotch. Emily grabbed the little black book, looking at the writing and the new found hope at saving Reid.

"Keegan…this-this is….amazing," she looked back up at him, eyes lit up with a new fervor to find her dying friend.

"Hotch!" Rossi finally got the voice back to call his team member, ready to finish this case and have ALL of them return back to Quantico, _alive_.

…

"Ellory," Hotch was seated in the plastic chair across from the head detective in the interrogation room, "tell me about the markings on the victims'."

Ellory laughed, "What, _Agent Hotchner_ , too desperate to save your little weakling of an agent to even know what common sense is anymore? Huh? What about loyalty? That skip your mind too? One thing you've got to know about the people of Boston, we don't sell each other out."

"Not like how you sold out the entire city and the people you were sworn to protect to a couple of serial killers," Hotch looked at Ellory directly in the eye, voice level as if he was stating a fact.

Ellory leaned back, face somewhat pinched, like he had never thought of it that way before.

"So you and Leiland have been in this together the entire time, correct?" Hotch asked another question, beginning his interrogation with his behavioral analysis skills.

Ellory wasn't going to give in easily, Hotch needed to find a way around his tough, Bostonian exterior and weave his way into the detective's guilt. He still cared about the city, but was for some reason more loyal to the unsubs. He must have related to the killers in some way, which could be a hate for society, the new generation, etc. But it seemed to go deeper, almost a hate for the roots of the city, of the country even: the government. And Hotchner plus his team were a living representation of the executive system. At some time or another, Ellory had found the unsub, most likely Samuel Wayhaven since he was a smooth talker, and convinced Ellory to team up with him. With the DA in right hand and Boston PD's head detective in his left, Bonnie and Clyde were unstoppable.

Which is why Hotch was going to done the FBI stereotype every TV show, movie, and book liked to incorpoate. The arrogant, know it all, government lackey everyone hated. These thoughts all came together in a matter of a second, Ellory didn't notice a thing.

There was no response to Hotch's latest question.

"You know," Hotch began his new persona, "I am from the FBI, and we've got some pretty high power in some pretty high places. You don't want to mess with the land of the free's _government_ , do you detective?"

Ellory was getting visibly agitated, meaning Hotch was on the right path. Yet, he still didn't say anything to the agent.

 _I need to dig in harder_ , Hotch thought, continuing, "You know, Greg, you're completely useless in this situation. One quick word from me and you're locked up for life. It won't be pretty either, I'll say something like you were charged with first degree murder, of a cop would be even better, and no one will have ever heard of Gregory Ellory again. You're nothing compared to me and the contacts I have. You're _powerless_."

He emphasized that last word, making it clear to show who was the boss. This finally made Ellory snap, jumping up from his chair to look down at Hotch, a common power play.

"Yeah! Well since you and your buddies have been sitting on your asses back at HQ more than 30 people have died in my city! Not saying they didn't mean it, he's got a way of doing things. But, I protected the good people of this city from the evil of the bureaucratic shit shows you and your friends come from!" Ellory snapped at Hotch.

"You mean the new head detective's city," Hotch, dropping his persona, calmly corrected the fuming Ellory, who didn't quit understand his remark.

"Excuse me?" he snarled back.

Hotchner explained, "You do realize your actions to help the 'good people of this city' has, like you said, killed more than thirty of them. As of your arrest, all titles and accolades as head detective of Boston law enforcement has been stripped away. You will be transferred to a county prison by the end of this investigation, and will be tried for your crimes against the city, those killed, and conspiracy with two of the most deadly killers this city has ever seen."

Hotch stood up, collected his papers, and looked at Ellory, who had sunk back into this chiar, with a look of pure despair on his face.

"My advice, detective," he whispered before heading out, "Get a lawyer and plead the fifth."

Hotch began to head for the door when he hear a soft and tired, "wait" from behind him.

He turned around and saw Ellory looking at him indifferently, knowing there was no going back for what he had done.

The detective asked, "Want to know how I did it?"

He was gloating. His last satisfaction with the limited time he had left, for the government to come crawling to him for the answers. And God knows they needed the extra info.

Yet, this man was also in charge of dozens of deaths and Hotch wasn't about to let him get the joy he wanted.

Again, he turned around and head for the door. Knowing, even with Reid's imminent downfall dead ahead, this was the right decision to make.

….

Prentiss had just thanked the lab analyst for his quick work when she ran into Rossi, Hotch, and JJ.

"Hey guys!" she called the members of her team, holding the files in her hand.

As they approached, Emily asked Rossi, "I assume you filled them in on Keegan's find?"

Hotch spoke up, fresh out of his interrogation with Ellory she pieced together, "Yes, he did. And?"

"You're going to want to see this," handing her team leader the papers, "The lab took in the track markings that Keegan had described and pinpointed the specific wheel dealer's in the furthest part of Eastern Boston. I already sent Keegan and a few other guys to one of the shops and I was just about to head out to the second location."

"Good," Hotch confirmed, "Rossi, JJ, go with her. Call me as soon as your done. How much time do we have left?"

"About 5 hours," JJ said in a low voice.

"Alright everyone, we do this for Reid and the countless other victims these two have murdered," Hotch announced, a brief pep talk for the downcast team, before walking off to the prison cells, searching for someone.

"Let's do this," Rossi said, before motioning for the two women to follow. They were in their specially issued government car and on their way to the wheel shop in seconds, driven to find their lost friend.

…

There was three kinds of sick. The annoying cold that everyone hated, the stomach flu that made you curse the world out over and over, and how Reid was feeling which made him want to kick the universe's teeth out.

He was curled up on the hard, cold floor, back against the metal bed frame, feeling absolutely awful.

Last time his captors asked him to help them get out of this city. Who did they think they were? Reid knew he only had a few hours left to live, let alone come up with a Plan B for two murderous unsubs. But, as the minutes droned on, he really was becoming afraid. Up till now, he held onto the hope that his friends were going to come save him. But he was running out of time and the poison was definitely effective. His mind was reeling and half of his vision was already gone. There was a small pile of vomit near his right shoe, but that had ceased hours ago when his nausea turned into dry heaves. There was nothing left in his stomach to threaten resurfacing. Yet, what had turned from a tingling in his fingers upgraded into an all out numbness in all his limbs and quickly spreading. His chest now was becoming a huge pain problem, spasms running through his abdominal cavity as his heart spasmed to keep beating, keep fighting off the toxin. This internal struggle wasn't comfortable or easy, he was bathed in sweat from the exertion of it all and visibly panting, face ashen.

The door latch loosened and he saw shoes from his point of view on the floor. The two sets, on a pair of black, leather combat boots and the other some nice, cozy indoor boots. He could tell who was who. Combat boots came forward and picked him up, Reid unable to fight back anyways, and rested his tired body onto the creaking metal bed post.

Bonnie looked at him with false pity and said, "Good news, genius boy, but looks like you won't be alive long enough to coordinate any kind of escape for us."

He looked to Clyde and in a fake, innocent tone remarked, "Huh, we should've waited a little more with the poison. Beginner's mistake."

Bonnie laughed another crazy, wicked cackle before continuing,"The stars are going to be mighty fine tonight, Agent Reid. Looks like you won't be there to see it."

He saw the flash of a camera and then a foot come straight for his skull…and he was out.

….


	12. Ending Pt 2

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of the characters. (2/3)**

Hotch knew of only one other person to help finally solve this puzzle. He opened the door to enter the hallway full of cells and stopped at the first one to his right.

"Leiland," was Hotch's monotone voice.

The DA quickly turned around from his position on the bed, partly relieved, partly scared.

"Agent Hotchner," the DA practically jumped out of his chair.

"Settle down, Ross," Hotch advised before opening up the file in his hand, "Here, I have a letter, signed by the FBI director, that states you helped our unit in a case by providing necessary information."

Leiland's eyes bulged, Hotch now knowing he would do anything for that letter.

Hotchner pulled up a chair and sat down, Leiland settling himself on the floor. The agent in front of the DA began his, hopefully, final interrogation, "Mr. Leiland, we have knowledge that you and Detective Gregory Ellory are accomplices to the two unsubs, Samuel Wayhaven and Mark Pellegrio, is that correct?"

"Yes, it's all true." he quickly responded, no hesitation or protesting.

"Is this why you deliberately told Detective Ellory to not call us in on the case?" Hotch continued, finally gaining some well needed information.

"Exactly, I was given strict instructions by…what's his name?"

"Samuel Wayhaven and Mark Pellegrio," Hotch finished, "So I assume they didn't reveal their identities."

"No, only called themselves by Bonnie and Clyde. But, I'll tell you anything you want to know, please," he pleaded to Hotch.

Hotch brought out pictures of the victims' bodies from his folder, "What's the meaning behind these markings on the bodies?"

Leiland grabbed the picture from Hotch's hand and immediately responded, "I remember that Clyde didn't do much talking, but when he did I guess he didn't really get the point of secrets because he spilled everything to me."

Hotch was now interested and the DA continued willingly, "ff you connect the markings, kind of like connect the dots, each one forms an ancient, zodiac symbol. Used thousands of years before. Heck, I'm not even sure how _they_ know these kinds of signs. Well, each marking stands for the month it's correlated to, so every 28 days, the lunar cycle, Clyde would go and hunt the victims Bonnie gave to him. All these people included those in his previous astrology class and his astronomy internship course. Poor devils, used his lunatic, moon beliefs to sacrifice these innocents."

Hotch absorbed the new, valuable info without any indication of an emotion, but restated, "Every time the moon started a new cycle, Samuel would give Mark a picture of their next victim, or victims. That explains how he sent all their pictures to the precinct."

"Precisely, and the more victims, the stronger connection between the signs and Bonnie and Clyde," Leiland also clarified.

"Excuse me?" Hotch asked, confused.

"Well, Clyde never cared for any of that moon and zodiac stuff but went along with it for the kill and for Bonnie. He actually became angry when there was any talk of religion or whatnot. In Bonnie's mind, the more kills the less of a chance Mark and him would ever become separated."

Hotch linked this to their lonely, unloved childhoods and the separation anxiety they must get from ever being without one another.

Hotch sat up from his chair, now getting all he needed from the DA, when Leiland begged, "Agent Hotchner please, I love this city and the people and my job. I'm not a bad man, despite what you think I've done, but I've also got a family I love. And those two maniacs threatened my wife and little girl would be the next to faces sent to the police station if I were to tell anybody about this."

Aaron Hotchner only looked down at the pitiful sight of the supplicating DA, Ross Leiland. "I'll see what I can do," were Hotch's last words to the DA, and the two never saw each other again.

…

Emily, JJ, and Rossi exited the run down, beaten up wheel shop they went and visited, but surprisingly, turned out to be the one who had custom made the tires for Wayhaven and Pellegrio. They described the two unsubs the same as Leiland did, one short, professor looking type and the other a big, bald brute. They were driving away, Rossi at the wheel, when Prentiss got a call from Hotch.

"Prentiss," she answered, stating her name loud and clear.

Hotch responded from Ellory's former office, Derek with him, "Emily, I just spoke to Leiland. He said the markings on the victims are linked to the lunar cycle and ancient zodiac symbols. Samuel would give Mark pictures of the victims every lunar cycle, the victims' birthdays corresponding to the month, and have Pellegrio do the dirty work."

"Okay, so Samuel is the brains and Pellegrio is the brawn. But, what would Mark do all this for? He obviously doesn't care about the astrological science as much as Samuel does." Prentiss asked.

"It goes farther than that, the two were together since childhood. They only live and breath one another because that's how they were forced to survive in the strict orphanages," Rossi pieced together.

"Wait," Derek spoke up, flabbergasted, "you're telling me that Samuel and Mark are killing all these people because of abandonment issues?"

"Well when you put it like that…" Emily tried finding some sort of a better defense, "…yeah."

"What did the owner of the wheel store tell you all?" Hotch quickly moved on, there was no time to dwell. No time at all. They were down to 2 hours.

"The owner's description almost exactly matches the DA's," JJ responded, "It's them two, and they wrote the address of an old, bank complex down on the order form."

"So they can drive, but they can't hide," Rossi remarked.

"Alright, we'll have Garcia send you the coordinates once we figure out exactly where this address leads. Keep cruising and notify the lab to be on standby if we figure out the poison. We'll get back to you as soon as possible." Hotch closed off before hanging up.

"Get Garcia on the phone," he directed Morgan, who was already typing in the numbers.

"Baby girl," Derek said on speaker phone.

"I'm ready to solve this," she responded, determined.

"Penelope we need an address for an old, abandoned, bank complex in east Boston," Hotch reiterated.

"A little broad…" she said back, "anything more specific?"

"That's all we got, Garcia," Derek stated, dejectedly, "We think Reid's there."

"My baby boy?" Garcia shouted on the phone, "hold your horses because mama's coming."

There was a slight pause and the sound of keyboard clicks when Penelope announced on the phone, "I've cross checked all familial affairs in the Wayhaven family, no complexes or buildings or anything of any kind in the family."

"What about Pellegrio?" Hotch asked.

"Father, none. Mother, not listed." she answered.

"Hotch, you said that Pellegrio doesn't believe in any of that zodiac stuff or has any religious beliefs, correct?" Derek began an idea.

"Yes, he would get angry is what the DA told me," Hotch clarified.

"Well, what if that was because his mother didn't abandon him, but was there the whole time? What if she was in the background this whole time? Garcia, look up the head nun at the orphanage when Samuel and Mark were there."

A few clicks, "Her name was Martha Miles, the head nun at the orphanage during the years Samuel and Mark attended."

"I see where you're getting at," Hotch jumped in, "Penelope, uncover any marital affairs affiliated with Martha Mills."

"But I thought nuns weren't supposed to-" Garcia started.

"Exactly, baby girl. But let's say she did. She couldn't keep the kid, couldn't stay with her husband, her entire career and status would crumble. So she let go of the husband, but kept the child in close range, yet far enough no one would have any questions."

"Ah, I see boys," Garcia now owned the computer, searching through all of Martha Mills' life and secrets, "Bingo! Martha Claire Mills was was married to a man named Castro Pelligrino and had one child, a boy. A few years after, she was placed as chief nun at the orphanage just a month before Mark was assigned to stay there, and within the week, Samuel Wayhaven as well."

"So that's where they first met," Hotch inferred, "and Mark's mother most likely instilled harsh religious discipline on him as a punishment for his own actions."

"Martha keeps her son, erases her past, changes Mark's name to something different, but similar enough as a memory. Pelligrino and Pellegrio? That's no coincidence," Derek also thought aloud.

"And get this, she was starting up a second orphanage at the time, but the permits never went through so a few years later an up and coming businessman, Castro Pello, rented the space and turned it into a bank until it was foreclosed years before," Garcia recited the words off her screen.

"So she kept in touch with the husband too," Hotch said, "Garcia, we need an address."

Derek whipped out a pen and notepad and jotted down the address Penelope finally managed to give.

…..

Sirens were on full blast as the two government cars full of BAU agents and about 10 squad cars headed for the abandoned building. Every minute echoed the barely remaining time Reid had left, the though of him possibly not have making it clouded the back of all their minds.

They made it across town in record speed and jumped out of the vehicles, guns raised and bulletproof vests on. There was an ambulance on standby to get Reid out and to help as soon as possible.

Slowly but surely, all the BAU team and around 10 SWAT members crawled up the building, floor by floor. They found some rooms stained with blood of past victims, others with star charts and constellations sprawled everywhere. They were in the right place.

At last, they almost reached the top floor when some commotion from the officers outside alerted them. The SWAT leader next to them got a message on his radio, saying they heard a car start around back, 6 squad cars on the chase after it. They weren't going to get far.

Still, the teams split and scoured the rest of the complex, room by room. Hotch, JJ, and several SWAT officers went in one direction while Derek, Rossi, and Emily went in the other.

Derek lead the group in complete silence, just in case someone was still lurking in the shadows. Derek's small team finished their current floor and moved up to the next in utter quiet. Several doors into the next floor, Derek opened a rotting, musty door with a little force and Rossi and Prentiss cleared the room.

When it was clear, they put their guns down with a sigh. No signs of the anyone, except for the dead body huddled up in a bloody mess next to a peeling metal bed post.

"Victim number 35," Rossi announced with a dejected tone, shaking his head.

Prentiss looked away, disappointed they didn't get here in time to save this poor, young man. He looked so young too, his slender body broken and face turned away from them.

"I'll call it in," Derek quietly said, going for his radio and saying, "Hey, we've got a body on the eighth floor. We're going to continue to search the premises, see if we find anything else, but I'd get a crime unit ready."

Rossi and Morgan were slowly preparing to move on but Prentiss insisted on staying just for one more minute, just to collect her distressed thoughts a little longer. She internally wished that Hotch and JJ found Reid already, his time diminishing to a little under an hour.

A slight, soft, barely audible moan sounded in the room. All the agents stopped. A flicker of moment from inside the room sent all the FBI agents' guns cocked and aimed. But, there was nothing but the dead body in the room. No sign of life. Rossi and Derek went inside to the center of the floor and looked around, pistols pointed. Prentiss had a different theory.

"Wait…" she half said to herself, "guys, come look at this."

Rossi and Derek didn't hear her soft statement, too busy securing the room.

Emily knelt down next to the skinny body and almost screamed. The slight frame of the supposed corpse was racked with shivers and heat radiating off him in waves. His chest was rising and falling at such a slow and weak rate she mistook this man for dead. Emily recognized those brown oxfords, the goofy socks, the patterned sweater vest…

"Reid!" she yelled, turning him over and holding her hands to her mouth.

Derek almost dropped the gun and sprinted over, "Spencer!" he yelled, kneeling down next to the unconscious form below him.

Rossi was shell shocked, not recognizing his half dead friend, and was frozen in place.

"Rossi! Call the paramedics up, now!" Derek commanded, turning back to face Reid.

His face was a rainbow of purple and blues, eyes rimmed red and violet, while some parts of his skull were puffy and swollen. This only brought out the extreme pallor of his already white skin, dangerously low in blood circulation. His clothes were dirty, ragged, and extremely bloody, indicating there were more injuries underneath everything. Emily checked for a pulse, at first almost in tears that she couldn't find one, when a weak thud was felt under her fingertips.

"His heart is beating so slow he could die any second," she told Derek, voice cracking.

Morgan set Reid down on the floor and started compressions, alternating between administering heart beats and breaths. He was barely breathing, and it looked as if Spencer Reid was already dead.

"You. Are. Not. Dying. On. Me. Today!" Derek practically yelled at the still body he was resuscitating.

Rossi ran up with a few paramedics in tow, all huddling around Reid, pushing the shocked and confused agents away from the nearly dead one.

…

Hotch rounded gave the signal to the rest of his team to split up in the large floor, cover more ground faster. As he entered what looked like a large, office room, he came face to face with a gun pressed against the side of his head.

"Drop the gun," was the strict command.

Hotch set it down slowly, hands up, and recognized the tone of Mark Pellegrio. Samuel must have made the escape in the car.

"You don't have to do this," Hotch told the unsub.

He didn't reply, but he was listening.

"He left you. Samuel. He's too busy skipping town while you stay here and take the blame. Do you think he's going to come back for you, Mark?" Hotch pulled some of his BAU skills, analyzing Mark's deep thoughts.

He profiled these two in and out, he knew their soft spots.

There was no reply, but the gun felt heavier against his skull.

"They all abandoned you. Your dad left you, your mom made you feel like she didn't love you. All this time you're probably wondering what you did wrong, but it wasn't you, it was them. People aren't trustworthy, so what makes Samuel any different?" Hotch explained.

There was a cock and a gun shot sounded through the room.

….


	13. Ending Pt 3

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of the characters. (3/3) That's all folks! Hope you enjoyed, and check out my other stories.**

The gunshot resonated in the large room, making JJ's ear pop.

Hotch, slowly lowering this hands, sighed in relief.

"JJ-" he started, trying to think of someway to thank her for saving his life, being there the moment that she was, her extremely skilled marksmenship.

Mark Pellegrio, the killer of 34 innocent civilians, was dead.

"Don't worry about it," she huffed, slowly lowering her gun.

She never liked to kill, which is partly why her job as liaison appealed to her, but she was glad to do it in this case. The two other SWAT members entered the room when they heard the gunshot.

Hotch grabbed his weapon off the floor and grabbed his radio, "Subject down, 9th floor."

He was greeted back by static and loud voices.

"Officer, what's going on down there?" he asked again, completely serious.

Derek answered this time, barely managing through all the commotion, "Hotch! It's Reid! He's being transported now, he's in bad condi-" but it cut off.

JJ and Hotchner looked at each other, sprinting down the first of nine floors.

…

"Blood Pressure 70 over 30, pulse 22!" a paramedic screamed at the two other paramedics waiting next to the ambulance. Reid was being sprinted out of the building in a gurney pushed by 4 SWAT officers.

He had a bag valve mask secure over his mouth, air manually being pushed in by a paramedic running alongside the speeding gurney.

Derek had just tried notifying Hotch that they found Reid when the connection cut. He thought he had heard something about a subject being down but that didn't matter now. All that matter was that they saved Reid before the poison took care of him.

The gurney was loaded into the ambulance so fast that Derek and Prentiss barely had the time to jump into the back along with the 2 paramedics to rush to the hospital, Rossi staying behind to wait for the rest of the team. Sirens blaring, the rig sped down the street to the nearest hospital 4 minutes away.

As JJ and Hotch came running out of the building, they saw flashing lights disappear down the street, carrying one of their own. Rossi came up to meet them.

"JJ, Rossi," Hotch said, panting from the long trek down, "You take one of the cars and I'll meet you at the hospital."

JJ nodded, in the tripod position, "What about you?"

"I'm going to stay here and finish up the case and see that the scene is properly taken care of. I won't be long," he responded.

She nodded again, hopped into the nearest FBI car with David, and followed the ambulance out.

…

"2 minutes out!" the driver yelled to those in the back.

In the ambulance, Reid was barely hanging onto the little life he had left. His blood pressure and pulse didn't get any better, and he wasn't able to breath on his own any longer. His lifeline was connected the various machines and tools around him.

Derek was yelling at the paramedics, trying to figure out what was going on, while Prentiss made phone calls to the nearest hospital, informing them of the incoming arrival.

"What's happening?!" Derek shouted above all the voices, but the people working on Reid couldn't hear him, "What's going on?"

Sure, Derek knew a lot, but he was way out of his league with this one.

All of a sudden, the heart monitor sounded some alarming beeps and the screen started going haywire, until the line went flat.

"He's in cardiac arrest!" one of the paramedics yelled to the rest, pushing needles of all different kinds and colors of medicine into Reid's IV.

"Compressions!" another yelled, jumping on top of Reid and pounding on his chest.

"1 minute out!" the driver shouted.

"If you don't get us there in 30 seconds he's dead!" the paramedic performing the compressions screamed back.

The already speeding ambulance seemed to break the sound barrier as the driver pushed on the gas even harder.

"Reid!" Derek yelled, even though he knew he couldn't hear him, "Stay with us, man! Stay with us! Don't you dare go anywhere!"

Prentiss was a nervous nail bitter, her cuticles down to stubs.

They screeched to a halt in the emergency bay and instantaneously the ambulance doors swung open. Doctors and nurses streamed into the small ambulance, pulling the gurney out with the paramedic still on top beating Reid's heart for him, others pressing their palms on Reid's still bleeding gashes on his head. He was wheeled into one of the trauma rooms immediately, at least 10 people performing twenty different tasks to save the FBI agent.

Reid disappeared under the mass of people, the flat line of his heart the last thing Derek and Prentiss heard before the doors shut on them.

…

JJ and Rossi ran into the hospital to find Derek and Prentiss sitting in the lousy chairs, still full coffees in their hands.

"How is he?" JJ asked worriedly.

"Stable," was Derek's soft, low reply. Damn was he tired, this case really got everyone in all different ways.

"Any news?" Rossi asked.

"He's still in surgery, but they started him on an antidote for the poison and caught it barely in time. Another 5 minutes and…" Prentiss only shook her head.

The relief flowing through Rossi and JJ was almost tangible. They flopped down into the chairs next to Derek and Emily, Rossi pulling out his phone to dial Hotchner, tell him the good news.

…

"The doctors said he was going to be alright," Hotch restated what Rossi just told him, to make sure he heard correctly.

"Just in the knick of time too," Rossi remarked, "This was too close."

"Is he up?" Hotch asked, getting into the second van.

"Not yet, and he won't be for a few days. They have him sedated to help with the recovery. He's malnourished, dehydrated, and still in critical condition, but it's looking hopeful."

Hotch sighed in pure relief, "Thank God."

He couldn't help but still blame himself for everything that had happened.

"Yeah," Rossi chuckled, "Who knew this kid was a fighter. Dislocated jaw, severe concussion, skull fracture, 4 broken ribs, nasty gashes and bruising all over, punctured lung, ruptured spleen, dislocated knee, and 2 broken fingers."

"Anything else?" Hotch felt even more guilty.

"Knowing Reid, this probably only made him want to get another PhD."

They both laughed at the attempt of a joke, extremely exhausted.

"Well, I'll stay in Boston for the next few days until he's stable enough for transport. You all take the jet home," Hotch ordered.

"Nuh-uh," Rossi denied, "You're crazy if you think we're going anywhere."

Hotch only smiled.

Rossi asked, "What happened with Wayhaven?"

"They caught him on the interstate out of Boston, almost out of the city limits. He's been apprehended and I placed Detective Keegan in charge. Put in a good word too as a likely candidate for the next head detective."

"Nice choice," Rossi agreed, "Can you believe Samuel just ditched his "brother" at the last second like that?"

"Fits the profile, seflish, narcissisitc, wanting to go down as the lone wolf behind it all. He's skipping trial and sentenced to life, no pleading or parole."

Rossi gave a satisifed "hmph" before Hotch said, "I'm on my way to the hospital, I'll see you there."

He hung up the phone and Rossi relayed Wayhaven's sentence to the rest of the team and let Garcia know the good news too.

….

EPILOGUE:

TWO DAYS LATER:

"Leiland!" someone called the DA's name from the hall.

Ross came up to the bars of his jail cell, looking at the officer who called his name.

"Looks like it's your lucky day," the guard unlocked the cell and took the handcuffs off Leiland's wrists.

"Who bailed me out?" the DA asked, unable to keep his curiosity at bay.

"Got some friends in high places, my friend," the guard only responded, "SSA Aaron Hotchner pulled some strings and actually revealed that you were coerced into conspiracy since the unsubs' threatened your family. You're free to go."

Leiland closed his eyes in straight relief and opened them to see his wife and daughter at the exit. Running to meet them, he hugged them tight and said to himself he was going to hand in his resignation as District Attorney before this time tomorrow.

….

"…I sentence you, Gregory Ellory, to life in prison as a result of your crimes against…" the judge listed Ellory's felonies.

Yet, he wasn't listening. The former head detective was an emotionless body, who hadn't said a word since his last meeting with Agent Hotchner, and would never say anything else again.

….

"Take it easy there, bud," Derek chuckled as the newly awakened Reid sipped at his water cup with painful, big gulps. His jaw was still severly black and blue from the dislocation, but he was parched and the nurse recommended a little water.

It looked as if someone used Reid as a palette for a blue and purple painting because he was bruised all over the place. His face was seemingly covered and any other exposed surface radiated the discoloration as well.

"Thank you," was Reid's hoarse reply when he had finished drinking.

His arm was in a sling, abdomen tightly bound, head zig zagged with stitches while the rest was covered underneath the blankets and gown.

He was the living definition of a human punching bag and every thought was painful, even on max morphine.

"Does anywhere hurt, Reid?" JJ asked, softly.

He shook his head slightly but sucked in a sharp breath and winced, all the agents reaching for their guns at his sudden intake of breath.

"No.." Reid tried to finish, ignoring the pain that was everywhere.

"That means up the morphine," Rossi chuckled.

Reid slowly laid his head back on the pillow in exhaustion, but smiled. They had him hooked up to the morphine in specific doses as not to disrupt his previous drug habits.

"He's already maxed out," Prentiss pointed out, laughing, "You feeling good, Reid?"

"Ohhh yeah," Reid joked back.

"I think this is going to be the one time ever when all of us are smarter than him," Hotch pointed out, smiling.

Reid made a worried face.

Derek chuckled and said, "Reid, what's 2,864,762,810.987 times -312?"

In less than a second, Reid responded, "-893,805,997,028."

"Nope, he's good," Emily clarified.

"Well, I'm just so glad my baby boy is doing much better," Garcia said on a video chat JJ set up.

Reid only smiled and his eyes started to shut.

"I think that's enough for today," Rossi sounded Reid's thoughts aloud, "we'll see you in a couple of hours, kid."

Reid was already asleep.

….


End file.
